Previously on The Most Elegant Puzzle, I read the prologue of James Watson's
The Double Helix and decided despite claims to honesty and accuracy, it was just as it also claimed to be--a retroactive diary, unreliable. While useful and interesting, it should be only be approached with the utmost skepticism. Part way through, I noted that I didn't consider Watson's attempt to backtrack a bit on his treatment of Rosalind Franklin in his personal account to be good enough. I said that would be a whole other blog post.
This is that blog post, and then some.
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| Rosalind Franklin |
Rosalind Franklin was an
x-ray crystallographer, which means her work involved firing x-rays at the atoms in crystals to create an image that enables someone to determine their structure, something
Patricia Fara (in her
four thousand year history of science) describes as requiring 'huge amounts of skill and patience'. In the early fifties and at the time of the events of the Double Helix, she was working at King's College London. She is best known for taking the photograph that clinched the double helical shape of DNA-- a photograph that was 'borrowed' without her knowledge by Maurice Wilkins (also working at King's) and shown to James Watson and Francis Crick.
This more tangible injustice, however, is not the end of it. In
The Double Helix, Franklin gets the most unfavourable description of anyone. I stole this condensed version of Watson's description of Franklin from
this excellent mini account of Franklin's life, but it's accurate to the early part of Watson's book.
By choice she did not emphasize her feminine qualities. . . . There was
never lipstick to contrast with her straight black hair, while at the
age of thirty-one her dresses showed all the imagination of English
blue-stocking adolescents. So it was quite easy to imagine her the
product of an unsatisfied mother who unduly stressed the desirability of
professional careers that could save bright girls from marriages to
dull men. . . . Clearly Rosy had to go or be put in her place. . . The
thought could not be avoided that the best home for a feminist was in
another person's lab.
Charming, eh? Watson never criticises her abilities as a scientist and I have no reason to believe that he is not abolutely sincere when he says she was good at what she did. After all, it was her photograph that provided him with the evidence to make his famous discovery. We should remember, also that Watson claims he is writing as if he was in the early fifties. He also does comment earlier that the women at King's were required to eat separately from the men, implying he views this as injust.
However, this does not undo the sexist nature of his comments and I think this is worth a bit of attention. A blogger called Nick B., writing
here, concludes:
All indications are that she [Franklin] was a very brusque and forward
person. She, according to her close friends, could be bossy and
impatient, not because she was mean, but because she was so serious
about science. One of her friends, Anne Sayre, pointed out that she
could often come off as far more stubborn or opposed to an idea than she
actually was. Watson’s account of her personality was confused and
incorrect; he clearly didn’t fully understand her, as he admitted in the
epilogue. But I think, generally speaking, he probably accurately
described their initial interactions and first impressions, which was
Watson’s stated goal.
As I said in my previous blog post, Watson's personal truth has no bearing on the historical accuracy of his statemnt and the fact remains that this is the record that he has left behind-- and did so with full knowledge of what he was doing. If he actually started planning the book in 1953, he had over 15 years to work out the exact language of his book. He chose not (only) to focus on her stubborn, bossy, impatient personality, as Nick B. implies, but on her looks (decrying her lack of lipstick and 'unimaginative' clothing choices). To me, this is a complaint made particularly of women by people who seem to be under the impression that a woman has a duty to look a certain way in order to appear professional (when few uphold such standards for men). This is, of course, pure sexism.
The final comment, that a feminist belonged in someone else's lab, stems from tension between Franklin and Wilkins. They were both working on DNA, and both apparently under the impression that DNA was theirs to work on. Wilkins was, according to Watson, under the impression that Franklin was to take an assisting role. Franklin was under no such impression and naturally refused to be subjugated.
In 1976,
Jerry Donohue (also an insider to this story with an instrumental role to play in the structure of DNA) wrote a
comprehensive review following the publication of a book by the aforementioned friend of Franklin, Anne Sayre. The book was called
Rosalind Franklin and DNA and posthumously told Franklin's story. Donohue's review not only covers his response to this book but also Watson's dismissive (yet cutting) so-called non-response to its publication ("
It’s just too complicated. She [Sayre] might as well
have her fun. No comment.") It also tackles a longer reposte from Farooq Hussain, writing (with some possible bias) from King's College itself.
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| Franklin's (and Ray Gosling's) X-Ray photograph of DNA |
But let's put the details of Donohue's review aside because I think that there is something to be said about the furor (Donohue uses the word "brouhaha") surrounding Watson's memoir. The amount written about this period is astonishing. Dozens of people have tried to unpick this story, detail by detail, personality by personality, interaction by interaction, and tell that honest tale of the discovery of DNA. The events of 1951-53 are only the beginning. The whole backlash decades later is Act II. It's Hamlet in the lab, heaving with characters and confusion.
Almost everyone involved has weighed in, or been required to weigh in--perhaps because of the delay of Watson's book often long after the fact. It is evident that Sayre interviewed Wilkins and Francis Crick in the seventies in order to her write her take on Franklin. Wilkins wrote an autobiography (
2003), which must be an interesting read. Hussain, as he was at King's College and worked in the field clearly had a vested interest. Jerry Donohue, as I have already said, was also involved-- he shared an office with Watson and Crick. We haven't even mentioned Ray Gosling, Franklin's assistant, and of course J.T. Randall, the Director of Biophysics at King's, who fatefully muddied the waters between Wilkins and Franklin by misleading them both on their roles. Part of this has to be that Franklin died in the late fifties, long before Watson assassinated her
character and her gender in his retroactive diary, so her voice--of all
the clamouring voices involved in this tangled story--is crucially
missing.
Would her voice put the discussion to bed? Perhaps. Perhaps not. The drama, and the drama
about the drama, goes on.
Oddly though, Watson the ultimate winner, the last voice, because of what he says at the beginning of his book. Remember? He wrote:
As I hope this book will show, 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.
And--although probably didn't intend it the way it turned out--having created with the publication of his 'honest' tale a perfect storm of conflicting reports, records and memories, wasn't he
entirely right about that?
*
In addition to the works linked in the post above, I also read this Independent article (which I remembered seeing the news about when it happened): "
Fury at DNA Pioneer's theory: Africans are Less Intelligent than Westerners." It does nothing to dispell a very dim view of James Watson.
The Jerry Donohue review is called 'Honest Jim?' and can be found in The Quarterly Review of Biology,
Vol. 51, No. 2, Jun., 1976 pps. 285-289.
I also read the Wikipedia entry on
Rosalind Franklin, which is where I got her photograph.
