Maxine F. Singer (1931–2024) | Science

Maxine Frank Singer, biochemist and fierce science advocate who elucidated the genetic code and transposons, died on 9 July. She was 93. Singer upheld the principles that scientific advances are driven by individuals free to explore their own ideas, that all qualified individuals should be able to pursue research careers, and that scientists bear responsibility for communicating their findings and remaining accountable to the public. She championed the importance of public understanding of scientific discovery and established programs to get children excited about science and support science teachers.

Singer, née Frank, was born on 15 February 1931 in New York City. In 1952, she received a bachelor’s degree in chemistry from Swarthmore College. A supportive group of female science majors who took each other’s ideas and ambitions seriously—an unusual environment in the early 1950s—empowered Singer to pursue a scientific career. After earning a PhD in biochemistry at Yale University, she wisely followed her adviser Joseph S. Fruton’s recommendation to join the field of nucleic acid biochemistry. In 1956, only 3 years after Leon Heppel described the bonds linking polyribonucleotides, Singer began postdoctoral training with him at the National Institutes of Health, using polynucleotide phosphorylase to synthesize RNAs. Marshall Nirenberg and J. Heinrich Matthaei soon achieved in vitro translation of her poly(uridine) samples into poly(phenylalanine). The finding captivated biologists, spurring a 5-year multilaboratory race to complete the 64-word genetic code.

Leveraging her prominence in the field, Singer co-organized an unprecedented effort by scientists, culminating in the famed 1975 Asilomar meeting, to address public fears about recombinant DNA technology. The meeting allowed for open debate on potential hazards of recombinant DNA to public health and the environment, evaluated the safety requirements for experiments, and helped frame federal research guidelines, which required prior review of some experiments but did not impede the research that has transformed our understanding of life, medicine, and the evolutionary process. Twenty years later, in 1995, Singer and her Stanford University colleague Paul Berg stated in a written consensus that recombinant DNA experiments pose no documented threat to public health, although ethical, legal, and environmental questions about biological advances remain central today.

In 1975, at the National Cancer Institute, Singer’s research interests turned to the repetitive DNAs that make up the majority of human genomes, in particular the L1 family of long interspersed nuclear elements (LINEs). Most LINE1 elements contain inactivating mutations, but in 1987, Singer’s group identified an element family in a cancer cell line indicative of transposition activity. That year, Haig Kazazian discovered a human mutation caused by a similar insertion. Singer and Kazazian collaborated for the next 10 years, exploring the impact of active transposable elements on humans and their genomes.

As president of the Carnegie Institution of Washington from 1988 until her retirement in 2002, Singer was a spokesperson for curiosity- driven science. In 1993, she defended scientists from congressional criticism that they had failed to solve national problems, noting that it was often politics, not lack of scientific knowledge, that slowed progress.

Singer excelled in identifying exceptional individuals and providing them with freedom, resources, and trust. At a packed public lecture in 1989 by Nina Fedoroff, who had recently cloned maize transposable elements, their discoverer—Nobelist Barbara McClintock—rose and movingly thanked the Carnegie Institution for unwavering support when her work had been doubted. Singer also trusted others with major institutional responsibilities. She engaged astronomer Stephen Shectman to design and manage construction of the innovative 6.5-meter twin Magellan telescopes at the Las Campanas Observatory in Chile. She gave one of us (A.S.) the authority to locate, plan, and procure a new building for the Department of Embryology in Baltimore with only this advice: “Don’t tell anyone your final budget, and call us if there is a problem.”

Taking a genuine interest in faculty, support staff, and trainees across Carnegie departments, Singer followed their projects and reveled in their success. She could converse fluently in the languages of microscopes, spectroscopes, and telescopes. As a newly appointed staff scientist, M.E.H. was invited to meet Singer at a 1994 board meeting. The diminutive president delivered a compelling address on the importance of instrumentation in scientific research to a captivated room of powerful men.

Singer pushed for inclusivity in science. In a 2006 commentary in Science on the National Academies of Science study Beyond Bias and Barriers, she asserted that “schools and universities must find ways to encourage and ease the path for women who are inspired by the great scientific adventure.” Her own efforts to ease that path for those underrepresented in science were close to her heart. She established a science program for inner city children and another to improve science instruction in Washington, DC, public schools. These programs inspired a love for science in countless students and teachers.

Singer’s contributions to advancing science and science policy were acknowledged by her election to the National Academy of Sciences (1979) and membership in the Pontifical Academy of Sciences (1986). Her myriad awards included the National Medal of Science (1992), US National Academy of Sciences Public Welfare Medal (2007), and Public Service Award of the American Society for Cell Biology (2008).

Although Singer reenergized every facet of the Carnegie Institution, she saw no need to alter its style of operation. She knew that scientists must search for the next important questions rather than work on what is in vogue. She modeled how to value fundamental discovery, fact-based science education, and equal access in the scientific enterprise, and she showed scientists how to speak up and prioritize inclusion. In a 1991 Science Editorial, Singer contrasted role models with heroes, describing the latter as “known for courage and nobility of purpose, thereby uplifting our own ambitions out of narrow, self-centered concerns.” In all respects, Singer was a hero.

This post was originally published on this site