hysteresis {54}
Just three weeks out from the start of the semester and nagging thoughts of cell biology are already creeping into my day dreams. Shortly after our cell and molecular biology course completed last year, I shut down my experimental cell biology research program to focus full time on being a science educator rather than a scientist. I spent the last of my grant dollars from the National Institutes of Health, hung up my lab coat, and shut the door to Derring 5029 where I had spent the most – and some of the best- waking hours of my career. Based on what I know about the ‘rules’ of an academic research career, I’m fairly certain there is no turning back on this decision – or is there? Which brings me to hysteresis.
Hysteresis is an irreversible, switch-like behavior that can occur between two steady-states in a system. The state in which a system resides depends not only on the current conditions, but also on the history of the system. Here are a few classic examples:
rubber bands: With no force applied, a rubber band exists stably in its unstretched state. However, once stretched beyond a certain point, the rubber band is permanently stretched, even when the force is removed. Same conditions, different state, depending whether the rubber band had experienced a threshold stretching. Importantly, hysteretic transitions are considered to be essentially irreversible.
some solid-liquid transitions: Think about Jello. After you dissolve the gelatin in boiling water, Jello won’t solidify unless you refrigerate it. However, once it is solid, Jello can sit out at room temperature and it will remain solid (except maybe in August).
Hysteretic transitions are not truly irreversible. However, the energy required to push a system into a particular steady state is much greater than what is required to keep it in a steady state. It’s nature’s way of preventing slippage. Thermostats are designed with this principle in mind. Otherwise, a climate control system would be switching back and forth between heating and cooling mechanisms to maintain a room at exactly 25°C.
As a cell biologist, my most rewarding work was testing the prediction of my colleagues John Tyson and Bela Novak, that cell division was regulated by hysteresis. When cells commit to the cell cycle, the process by which they duplicate their DNA precisely and other cell contents less precisely, then divide into two daughter cells, the commitment is irreversible. Cells may pause or even arrest the cell cycle if something is wrong, but the cell cycle never moves in reverse. Both my students and my colleague and friend Joe Pomerening found compelling evidence for John and Bela’s theoretical predictions of hysteresis. Cells synthesize a protein called cyclin, and a threshold concentration is required to drive the cell into mitosis, the final stage of the cell cycle where cell division occurs. In order to exit mitosis, the level of cyclin must drop to a distinct inactivation threshold concentration that is measurably below the activation threshold.
The cell cycle example illustrates that the state transitions are not truly irreversible, but in essence, may require a bigger ‘push’ to get out of one state, than was required to get into that state in the first place. When there are certain types of feedback, a system can oscillate between one state and the other in what is called a hysteresis loop. This is what happens with the cell cycle.
Does hysteresis only exist in the natural world? Wikipedia has a pretty good description of the phenomenon, including examples from economics (e.g. unemployment levels) that are described as hysteretic.
Which makes me wonder, which of life’s transitions are hysteretic and which are not?
Closing a research program? Probably hysteretic. Not impossible to go back but the deck would be stacked heavily against an investigator with a significant gap in her funding record, more so than a young scientist applying for her first grant.
Becoming a parent? Definitely hysteretic. There’s really no turning back from that one, but who would want to?
Marriage? In contemporary society, marriage hardly seems hysteretic, and to be honest, I prefer to view marriage as an unstable, rather than stable, steady state. That view keeps me intentional about what it means to be a loving and committed spouse rather than taking the relationship for granted.
In the past few months, and more pointedly in the past few days, I have the unsettling sensation that I am in the midst of a professional hysteretic transition, moving from one stable steady state to the next. Graphically, hysteretic transitions appear as jumps, sharp transitions, never as gently sloping curves.
The ride has not been entirely pleasant, the transition not anticipated in time to fasten my seat belt, and I’m not quite sure where I’m headed. I’ve even tried to turn back, but find that I cannot. I’m propelled, which is thrilling and terrifying at the same time. I’ll report back when I land.
….. one more thought on hysteresis. As one approaches a hysteretic transition, a phenomenon known as “critical slowing down” occurs. John was convinced that we would find evidence of critical slowing down in the cell cycle. While the theoretical predictions were compelling, it was hard, damn hard, to generate experimental evidence. Here it is:
If you are not impressed at the precision it took to achieve this evidence, believe me that Wei Sha, whose data are shown here, and Joe Pomerening are among the few individuals in the world who could have done this experiment.
Critical slowing down? That may explain a few things in my life as well. I’ve been trying to fight that aspect of the transition too, but perhaps resistance is futile.
hysteresis part 2: finding that stable steady state {25}
A few weeks ago in anticipation of beginning a new semester of Cell and Molecular Biology, I wrote about the natural phenomenon of hysteresis. While I have investigated hysteresis as a mechanism that regulates the irreversible transitions of the cell cycle, blogging about hysteresis left me far more contemplative about its potential in life’s transitions. I wrote:
“In the past few months, and more pointedly in the past few days, I have the unsettling sensation that I am in the midst of a professional hysteretic transition, moving from one stable steady state to the next…. and I’m not quite sure where I’m headed. I’ve even tried to turn back, but find that I cannot. I’m propelled, which is thrilling and terrifying at the same time. I’ll report back when I land.”
Well, I’ve landed, and guess where? Right back where I started, which is about the last place I expected to be.
Just a few days before the semester began, I made the painful but absolutely correct decision to step down from my position as the Associate Dean for Curriculum, Instruction, and Advising in the College of Science. It wasn’t exactly a life of sex, drugs, and rock-and-roll, but I was paid very well. And I had resources and autonomy to impact higher education for the betterment of our students. Until I didn’t. And that’s why I quit.
Enough said about that. It’s where I find myself now that really matters. After a hysteretic transition, a system generally comes to rest at a stable steady state. That has a nice ring to it. Rest. I could use some of that after an insane year. Stability. Aaaah. For the foreseeable future, I’ve returned to the life of a biology professor. Less money. Smaller office. More time to wonder about the mysteries of the cell. More time to spend with students. I couldn’t be happier.
But there is an eeriness to this transition that cannot go unmentioned. Much like the cell cycle, my life has really come full circle. Last fall, the first Cell and Molecular Biology class met just hours after I had to put down my sweet Comet. His death haunted my semester.
Last Wednesday, on the one-year anniversary of Comet’s death, my friend Ed rescued Bruce. Bruce is best described in brief as a lover and a runner. Bruce needed a home and our family needed Bruce.
I’m convinced that in life, at least in my life, there will be a dog waiting and wagging at every stable steady state.
In the hysteresis post, I also wrote about closing my research lab this year: “I spent the last of my grant dollars from the National Institutes of Health, hung up my lab coat, and shut the door to Derring 5029 where I had spent the most – and some of the best- waking hours of my career. ”
As I looked for some place on campus to call home when I left the dean’s office, my department head in Biological Sciences asked me, “What would you think about moving back into your old office and lab?”
What would I think? I’d think I was pretty darn lucky. Like a student who moves back home for a while after college and finds her bedroom has not been turned into Mom’s home gym or Dad’s new man-cave. Since I announced I was stepping down as associate dean, countless people have recited the cliche, “when one door closes, another one opens.” Who knew it would be the door to good ol’ Derring 5029?
One final word on hysteresis: as discussed in my earlier post, even at the same steady state, the behavior of a hysteretic system is dependent upon its history. In other words, I may be returning to the faculty ranks and back in my old office, but I am not the same professor who left to become an administrator four years ago. An obvious example is my focus on science education rather than experimental science. I still bring in significant grant dollars from places like the NIH and NSF, but the projects focus on the learning of science rather than experimental cell biology. But that’s the obvious. I expect my behaviors will be changed in many other ways. I can already perceive an enriched appreciation for many aspects of my new-old life, especially for the hours of learning, laughter and who-knows-what-else in Cell and Molecular Biology.
By Jill Sible Category: Uncategorized