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Nearly 20 years ago, I introduced a
special series of articles for Trends in Neurosciences
(5:295, 1982) that sought to illustrate some of the then-latest
developments in molecular neuroscience. That was the time when
neuroscientists were beginning to borrow heavily from the nascent field
of molecular genetics, just as we had previously borrowed flagrantly
from the previously powerful fields of biophysics and cell biology. The
tools of that day seemed quite novel and powerful: the ability to make
cDNA libraries carrying modest-sized inserts of mammalian mRNAs, the
ability to isolate and amplify these cloned segments of active genes,
and the ability to make what seemed to be rapid determinations of the
sequences of those mRNAs and deduce the likely amino acid sequences of
their gene products. Even more exciting then was the prospect, realized in less than 2 years, of detecting gene mutations that cause
inheritable neurological diseases such as Huntington's.
We fast-forward our retrospectoscope to the present and recognize what
primitive times we were then entering, to which the intervening
progress has added PCR to amplify genetic information and to do so
quantitatively, the ability to identify disease-associated or
disease-causing genetic mutations and to develop transgenic animals
that express those genes, the ability to knock out the expression of
their natural counterparts, the ability to apply a variety of
strategies to turn up or down the expression of specific genes in
specific neurons at specific times after birth, and the ability to
determine what unknown proteins interact with proteins just discovered
to mediate, for example the process by which synaptic vesicles store
their transmitter, discharge it under Ca-dependent, voltage-dependent
conditions, and then reconstitute themselves for reloading with fresh
transmitter molecules. Implicit in all these advances is the automation
of data collection and analysis and the ability to enlist the computer
as a user-friendly wizard to search the data and deduce useful patterns
within them. And as a vaudevillian performer might have been tempted to
announce, "We ain't seen nothing yet!"
The single largest bolus of molecular information ever infused into the
research community was ushered in with a publicly proclaimed political
event in June of 2000 and finally presented in published form this past
February: namely, the initial "draft" inventory of the human
genome. What this phrase means in simple terms is that by using
advanced versions of the powerful methods of molecular biology, several
large scientific teams have been able to take apart human DNA in very
refined ways, amplify the amounts of the pieces, determine the order of
the nucleic acid bases in each fragment, and then put all the fragments
back together again in proper order across the 23 pairs of human chromosomes.
However, having determined the sequences of the nucleic acids, it was
possible to train computers to read the sequence information and spot
the specific signals that identify the beginnings and endings of
sequences likely to encode proteins and hence the genes for those
proteins. In addition, the computer systems could then sort among those
proteins based on similar sequences (motifs) of their amino acid
building blocks and assign them to families of similar proteins whose
functions had already been established. In this way, scientists were
able to determine approximately how many proteins the human genome (all
of the genes a human has) could encode. Similar routines allowed the
determination of how many of those newly recognized genes were similar
to genes we have already recognized in the smaller genomes of other
organisms previously mapped out [for example, the yeast, the worm
(Caenorhabditis elegans), and the fruitfly (Drosophila
melangaster)] or of organisms about to be mapped out (Mus
musculus) and how many other genes had never been encountered previously.
Scientifically, this state of information has been termed a draft
because it is based on a very dense but not yet complete sample of the
whole genome. What has been determined still contains a very large
number of interruptions and gaps. Nevertheless, compared with completed
genomes of other organisms, the human has greatly increased its
representation of genes related to nervous system function, which had
already been thought to contain at least half of the genome's
treasure. Importantly for diseases of the nervous system characterized
by premature death of neurons, such as Alzheimer's and Parkinson's
diseases, there is a very much larger genetic representation than had
been expected of programmed cell death-related genes. Comparing the
consensus sequence of human DNA with other samples entered previously
in publicly accessible databases, it has been estimated that there may
be >2 million sites at which significant variations between
individuals (so-called "polymorphisms") exist that may (or may not)
alter the functions of the encoded proteins and render an individual
more or less vulnerable to specific disorders.
Two major future vistas can then be inferred. To create organisms as
complex as humans with a relatively small number of genes (at least
compared with worms and fruit flies) probably means that the rich
diversity of the proteins necessary for human structure and function is
based on their modifications either during transcription of the gene or
after translation of the intermediate mRNA into the protein. Second, as
far as this observer can determine, it confirms that although compiling
this draft inventory represents a stunning technical achievement, for
many neuroscientists the next steps in the harvesting of this
information for influencing their own specific experimental objectives
may be quite unclear. From my perspective, determining where in the
brain's circuits specific genes are normally expressed, and how that
expression pattern may be altered by the demands of illness or an
unfriendly environment, represents an enormously daunting task. That
task, at present, is one for which there are as yet no tools
equivalently as powerful as those used to acquire the enormous amount
of nucleotide sequence data that we have now amassed.
The stage of understanding at which we are now has been referred to as
the end of "naive reductionism." To fulfill the promise of the
enormously rich mother lode of genetic information already in hand, we
must next determine where these genes are expressed, what functions
they control, and what sorts of controls other gene products can exert
over them. In the nervous system, where cell-to-cell interaction is the
main operating system in relating molecular events to functional
behavioral events, the still murky properties of activity-dependent
gene expression will certainly require enormous investment by the
neuroscience community. This special section of the Journal of
Neuroscience was commissioned to help make more apparent the
opportunities that lie in the new technology, which continues to evolve
its powers almost as fast as applications of the technology to specific
experimental problems have begun to render early solutions. The authors
of these brief reviews were asked not only to communicate the
excitement of the strategies they have themselves helped evolve but
also to extol their shortcomings as well as their special virtues and
to illustrate their descriptions with problems being solved by them.
Although each brief review is concise enough and accessible to every
reader of this journal, it may be useful to indicate how they relate to
each other to depict some selected views of the molecular neurosciences
in late-2001.
Sutcliffe reviews the several current strategies of gene detection and
presumptive functional characterization, from differential display
technologies to DNA chip array technologies to highly automated rapid
open-ended detection of genes whose mRNAs differ in selected
experimental perturbations.
Eberwine et al. review just how much can be done in characterizing the
differences in gene expression within single cells in vitro,
what might be expected from in vivo extensions, and how
these living molecular experiments can provide quantitative insights.
Grant and Blackstock describe how similar high-throughput, highly
specific mass spectrometry combined with computer-intensified molecular
database mining can be used to define the complexes of proteins
(proteomics) that work as molecular ensembles in, for example, the
signal transduction pathways of neurotransmitter receptors. The final
two articles demonstrate how these approaches have begun to be applied
to human and animal models of human diseases.
Blakely reviews the molecular foundations of two neurotransmitter
transporter systems, that for norepinephrine and that for serotonin,
long associated with depression and the actions of anti-depressant
drugs, and suggests how the field may in fact advance more rapidly by
analysis of rare functional polymorphisms first recognized from
dysfunctions of these transporters in the peripheral nervous system.
Last, Nestler demonstrates how the genomic and proteomic approaches can
be applied to the science and the societal consequences of substance
abuse to define vulnerabilities, resiliences, and the basis by which
the brain adapts to prolonged drug exposures.
As the editorial organizer for these brief reviews, it is my hope that
many more neuroscientists will find these methods and, more
importantly, the quality of the floods of data they produce, conducive
to new and more powerful collaborations. However, if the past is any
indication, today's tools and methods of data analysis will likely be
surpassed by new surprises soon.