The Double Helix

For all the layers of complexity, one can still sense the point Watson was making: that there is an elegance in the unity and simplicity of the double helix. There is also something amazing in its capacity to accommodate and create endless variety from within its simple, regular structure. Complexity is built upon simplicity. As Watson puts it, “the structure was too pretty not to be true” (153).

When Watson suggests this, the implication is not that something being pretty could guarantee its truth, but rather that within nature there could be a law of simplicity, an economy and eloquence of design which they had found illustrated in the double helix.

The subtext here is the “aesthetic” sensibility of the scientist, where “pretty” means a kind of perfect economy and balance. In the DNA molecule, nothing is superfluous; everything fits together and serves a purpose.

Once all the pieces are in place, it looks (in its broadest terms) fairly natural and straightforward, but to get to the point of actually imagining and piecing together this three-dimensional molecular structure was a remarkable scientific undertaking.

It requires not only a deep understanding of chemical bonding and biochemistry, but the crystallographic expertise to create and interpret x-ray diffraction images, using complex mathematics, combined with the imagination to conceive of workable possibilities, and the perseverance to see them through.In the early 1950s, these scientists were reaching toward the unknown, on the basis of hunches, assumptions, diffractions, equations, theories, and inclinations, all of which were open to debate. From that uncertainty, that shared reaching towards a scientific truth, comes much of the drama of Watson’s book. 

One of the stated aims of Watson’s book was to show the human dimension of the way science works: “Science seldom proceeds in the straightforward logical manner imagined by outsiders. Instead, its steps forward (and sometimes backward) are often very human events in which personalities and cultural traditions play major roles” (1).

What Watson may be alluding to when he speaks of the misunderstanding of “outsiders” is the stereotypical conception of the scientist as an objective, dispassionate figure in a lab coat, peering in at nature. His book is presented as a corrective to that idea, showing the complex role of human circumstance, personalities, psychology, and tradition in the process of scientific discovery.

The scientist is caught up in the world he attempts to understand. This is a key part of Watson’s motivation for choosing a narrative perspective located within the action, giving us his immediate experiences, feelings and impressions of the time rather than his distanced outlook from years later. He wanted to show us the actual experience of doing science, of making an important discovery, and the thoughts and feelings that accompany it, in all their imperfections.

His account shows us the way science and human life intersect: the sudden shifts from thoughts of DNA to thoughts of women, or personal glory; the way personal desire for something to be right or wrong can affect scientific judgement; the way gender or racial prejudice might influence judgment; the way a bad relationship or a bad diplomatic move can lead to research stalling; or how the emergence of a rival, or a chance meeting, can spur progress on. The steps towards discovering DNAare a mix of the social and the scientific. And just as human events shape scientific discovery, the discovery itself shapes human events, both the lives of those most closely connected to it, and, human life more broadly, when we think of the social and medical possibilities their discovery would gradually open up. 

Ambition and a competitive instinct certainly seem to be key driving forces for Watson. He regularly and openly refers to this, and we see it in the way he constructs the race for DNA with Pauling. The spirit of competition and rivalry, and the desire for personal glory, can be interpreted negatively, as petty egotistical impulses, and in one sense they are. As Bragg puts it, in the Foreword, Watson’s “intuitive understanding of human frailty strikes home” (xviii).

Watson’s frankness reveals his baser motives, but part of the strength of his narrative is that this makes his character relatable, and we can recognise some element of those vices in ourselves. It reminds us too that behind great discoveries are human beings, with all the usual human frailties and vices.

Watson’s book allows us to consider the extent to which competitive and egotistical drives are beneficial, even necessary, for scientific development. In Watson’s case, they are linked closely to other traits which prove useful and get them closer to a solution: things like determination, pragmatism, resourcefulness, and guile. These human traits enable their discovery. At the same time, the egotistical drive and associated behaviours also cause conflict and raise moral problems. 

Alongside the individualist drive is the counterbalancing spirit of friendship and collaboration, which is manifest in the book in many different forms. We see it in the partnerships of Watson and Crick, two outsiders who hatch their plans togetheroutside of official work time and spur each other on to DNA’s solution.

We see it also in the support Watson receives (both practical and scientific) from a range of other scientists around the Cavendish, in Copenhagen, and at Indiana University. We see it too in the human bonds that form between Watson, Crick and Franklin after the discovery is made, and a spirit of collaboration replaces earlier conflict and animosity.

Science will always be about human collaboration, as no discovery is made individually. Its progress depends upon the combined efforts and influences of a group of people.

When Watson reflects on their success, he notes the importance of “those long uneventful periods” when they walked around colleges or read in a bookshop (146). We see the value of the shared social spirit with which they lived and worked, and how those moments nourished and enabled their work on DNA. 

There is a sense in which personal ambition may be useful and productive, but there is also a question of when it oversteps a moral line. How can it be kept in check by the cooperative spirit needed for the scientific community, and science, to prosper? This is where the notion of “fair play” arises: a set of rules and norms which inform how scientists interact. But there are of course grey areas.

It is open to debate how far Watson and Crick overstep the lines of fair play: firstly, in stepping into Wilkins’ field of research, and, secondly, in drawing on Franklin’s x-ray evidence without her permission.

When Bragg brings a stop to their work on DNA in Chapter 15, there is a sense that this is broadly the right thing to do. It was fair that Wilkins and Franklin have the first crack at solving DNA. Watson and Crick don’t dispute this point morally, but they also have no intention of giving up thinking about DNA. Watson elsewhere comments that the fair play approach to domains and priorities of research was a peculiarly English custom, and more etiquette than hard rules. Stricter lines are drawn on the issue of intellectual ownership (acknowledging the ideas of others in your work) and this is a tensionpoint that crops up again and again.

In fairness to Watson and Crick, they always attempt to share their work and collaborate with Wilkins and Franklin. At the same time, this may be because they know they need Wilkins and Franklin’s help. The abortive meeting in Chapter 14 is an attempt at establishing a joint approach, and ultimately a joint approach of sorts prevails when the final structure is reached.

The most questionable moral point is the use of Franklin’s B-structure picture without her permission. It’s an issue that has been discussed widely since, but in the narrativeitself it doesn’t register as a moral problem for Watson, and receives no discussion in the Preface or Epilogue, either. 

Quite aside from the “fair play” debate, there is a wider issue of scientific ethics implicit in The Double Helix. What responsibility does the scientist have to think about the consequence of their work, and its potential uses?

Watson is caught up in the personal race to discover DNA, and talks of advancing science, but their discovery also has huge social implications. It has led the way to great advances in medicine, and the genetic modification of crops and animals, and, potentially, human beings. This is a domain where moral and environmental questions abound. How far should we interfere with the workings of nature, and what are the long-term implications of our interference?

The question of how science is used appears in another form. We find out in asides that both Wilkins and Crick worked for Military Research Laboratories during the war, and were involved in engineering weapons: Crick worked on “magnetic mines,” (43) and Wilkins worked on the project that led to the creation of the atomic bomb, though he came to deeply regret his involvement. In these ways, we see that science is caught up with human events and human history, and with this comes important moral questions. This is especially so when we consider the role science played in making possible the atomic bomb.

We have another model of scientific responsibility in Pauling, who uses his status as a preeminent scientist to become an advocate of the world peace movement, during the Cold War.