Saturday, May 17, 2025
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Worthwhile resolutions

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We all made New Year’s resolutions but, halfway through January, let’s be honest with ourselves for a moment. Those new running shoes are definitely just for show and the closest they’ll get to proper use is that ‘half-walk, half-jog’ you do when the green man goes red.

You might think your diet is going well but those post-night out chips and cheese definitely do count, no matter whether you remember eating them or not. And ‘be happier’? Come on, as if you can coerce yourself to even smile at tute sheets.

So this year, we need to make promises that we can stick to, that will actually better our lives and those of others. Being well-meaning is fine until suddenly it’s December and you’re still lying in bed surrounded by crisp packets and self-loathing.

Obviously, Oxford is home to many students but if you actually look up from your Prêt coffee or your textbooks once in a while you might notice that there are other people in the city. Some of these people, for one reason or another, need help.

Specifically, the homelessness issue in Oxford is so explicit that even the most rose-tinted glasses won’t hide the problem, no matter how hard some people try. We spend our days walking past people who have lives, and stories, but crucially no homes.

It can seem, as a student, that this, although distressing, is something not within our control. We may occasionally buy a Big Issue or throw a few coins into a hat, but the feeling of underprivileged guilt, for some people, can prove shamefully easy to swallow down and ignore.

Even for those willing enough to look into their options to make a difference, the thought of dedicating time to anything whilst wrapped up in ‘hectic’ Oxford life is a scary one. It feels like meeting someone for coffee requires rearranging three things, an all-nighter, and cutting two other friends completely out of your life. But is a few hours a week really all that much? Let’s be honest, you probably spend that amount of time each day looking at Buzzfeed.

So, my suggestion is to take the plunge. Sign up as a volunteer at somewhere like The Gatehouse, a cafe for homeless people. People here provide hot meals and drinks for those without a home and get to know the names and stories behind the faces we pass every day.

It’s only a few hours a week and the charity understand that you might only be in Oxford during term-time, so it’s perfect for students (as long as you are prepared to make the commitment). It could just make you organise your time better, forcing you to kick that procrastination addiction, and it certainly will do a lot of good for a lot of people, including yourself.

Information about The Gatehouse can be found at oxfordgatehouse.org

Through the Looking Glass: Benazir Bhutto

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The name conjures up an image of a poised, elegant woman, seemingly demure in her trademark white headscarf, with eyes that gave away her sharp intellect. This is the Benazir I saw in Pakistan after she returned from her self-imposed exile, twelve years after her second term as Prime Minister. But the “fiery and fun” woman who had taken Oxford by storm in her yellow (or “snot-coloured”, as MP Alan Duncan recalls it) MGB convertible was lost to me, and I tried to reconcile the serious stateswoman with the vivacious youth that had captured the attention of many at Oxford.

Bhutto came up in 1973, and read PPE at Lady Margaret Hall. For most of her Oxford acquaintances, the memory of Benazir is tied to her “beautiful” yellow convertible. Unable to make any claims about faulty WiFi networks, she once told her tutor that someone had stolen her essay out of her sports car. This same convertible was used to drive to weekend excursions to Stratford-upon-Avon to watch Shakespearean plays, or to Baskin-Robbins in London, her favourite ice cream parlour. Other favourite pastimes included picnics at Blenheim Palace, punting and boathouse parties, and, perhaps most significantly, debating at the Oxford Union, of which she became later became president.

Bhutto made history by becoming the first Asian woman to become the president of a club that had only started admitting women in ten years ago. According to biographer Walter Isaacson, a Rhodes Scholar at Pembroke at the time who helped her with her campaign, Bhutto was determined to prove that a former member of the colonies could become president of the Union.

However, whilst much of Bhutto’s life at Oxford was just like anyone else’s, notwithstanding her position at the Union, in many ways it differed hugely. In March 1977, while she was busy painting the president’s office blue, and using a green and white theme (the colours of the Pakistan flag) for term-cards, her father was contesting elections. This was followed by riots in Pakistan, which endangered not only his life, but Benazir’s as well. She was paid a visit in Oxford by officials from Scotland Yard to make arrangements for her safety.

Although she claims in her autobiography that “Pakistan seemed far away” whilst she was at Oxford, it preoccupied her mind as much as tutorial essays and Union politics, and she poured over English and Pakistani newspapers most mornings in the St. Catz MCR. The debating chamber at the Union—where her portrait hangs today—became a second home to Benazir during her time at Oxford, and indeed, prepared her for a life beyond it: the first Asian female Union President was to go on to be the first female Prime Minister of Pakistan. Bhutto could be “fiery and fun” or serious and solemn—she was a dangerous woman in every sense of the word.

‘Rhodes Must Fall’ campaigners become Rhodes scholars

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Two South African ‘Rhodes Must Fall’ campaigners have been awarded £40,000 Rhodes scholarships at the University of Oxford.

Joshua Nott and Mbali Matandela were both involved in the original ‘Rhodes Must Fall’ campaign at the University of Cape Town (UCT), which succeeded in having a statue of British colonialist Cecil Rhodes removed in April 2015. They have both recently been awarded Rhodes scholarships to Oxford university, each worth 670,000 South African Rand, equivalent to £40,000.

During the ‘Rhodes Must Fall’ protests at Cape Town University, Nott was quoted in IOL News saying: “you wouldn’t see a swastika in Jerusalem.” The Rhodes Trust website says Nott, a social sciences student, is “keenly interested in social justice and has pioneered a number of workers’ rights and student focussed initiatives.” It does not explicitly reference his links with the ‘Rhodes Must Fall’ campaign.

Mbali Matandela, a gender and transformation student at UCT, was also a vocal ‘Rhodes Must Fall’ campaigner, who reportedly took a feminist line against the Rhodes statue at UCT.

It is currently unclear whether or not the pair will join the ‘Rhodes Must Fall’ campaign in Oxford, which calls for the removal of Oriel College’s statue of Rhodes.

Joshua Nott and Mbali Matandela are two of this year’s nine South African Rhodes scholars.

Rhodes Must Fall in Oxford and the Rhodes Trust were contacted for comment. The University of Oxford declined to comment.

Letter from abroad: Belgium

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Before leaving to go abroad I encountered the standard panic of being that second year trying to piece together their unhelpfully vague ‘year off’.

After what was essentially an extended holiday, working in Barcelona for an Anglophone magazine, I found myself in Brussels, pursuing a translation internship with Myria, the Belgian Federal Migration Centre in an office that is one of the only genuinely bilingual workplaces.

Upon arrival, I was struck by Brussels’ distinctly European feel, with the gold starred flag seemingly omnipresent. Sign-posting is in two languages, although at international train stations notices are often written in four: Dutch, French, German, and English. Originally, I was keen to demonstrate to everybody I met that I was a Brit who could actually speak French. However, it turns out that the linguistic tensions in Belgium mean that speaking French to a Flemish person is very rude indeed. Fabulous.

Slowly learning about Belgian social conventions, I spent my first week kissing everyone I met on both cheeks. However, I soon realised that there was a reason people looked more than slightly bemused when I did this. Apparently, in Belgium, it’s only the one cheek.

From different supermarket products, to odd approaches to zebra crossings, to recycling-related fines, cultural differences strike me everyday. Yet, an even more noticeable contrast is the security. The city is still in shock from the attacks last year, and intimidating stern-faced army soldiers with guns line the metro stations and often patrol public spaces.

Additionally, I’ve made quite a few linguistic discoveries since arriving. I’ve learned a new phrase on my walk to work, for example, in the form of a café name: Ah! non peut-être, which (despite literally meaning ‘not perhaps’) means ‘of course’, of course.

Another bizarre turn of phrase, which I learned whilst ordering a drink at Café des Halles, was ‘s’il vous plaît’ being used to mean ‘here you go’ or ‘you’re welcome’ as a waitress handed over my change.

On top of this, ‘baise’ is used very similarly to ‘bise’ to mean ‘a light kiss’, rather than ‘a fuck’, as the slang of France would have it. These things are useful to know.

Earlier this week an acquaintance said the following words to me: “The best thing about Brussels is the train to Paris”. Though the city does not boast the same Haussmann architecture of Paris or the terracotta roofs of Prague, these words are rather harsh. Brussels still has a rich cultural history, and it does make up for what it lacks aesthetically with politics. There are plenty of lectures and talks held every week; I have attended speeches on Brexit and feminism, which have proved entertaining, irrespective of the free Cava and nibbles.

I also had the opportunity to attend a conference led by the European Green Party, about rebuilding relations in the EU. It featured a talk by Raphaël Glucksmann, a French writer and film director, whom I approached afterwards for a quick chat that turned into a long political debate over a cigarette. I suspect Bordeaux, my next destination, will be less politically-oriented.

My year abroad so far has given me the opportunity to do many things for which I didn’t have time at Oxford. I can’t say for certain that Brussels feels like home just yet, but there is a certain familiarity to the place that has grown on me and overwritten past doubts.

Profile: Fiona Bruce

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I challenge you to find someone who knows the BBC newsroom better than Fiona Bruce.

As the first woman to present their News at Ten programme, the 52-year-old is a household name. Although she modestly points out to me that this is not quite so much of an achievement when one remembers that she was in fact its first ever presenter.

Regardless, what the news-reader and presenter has achieved as a woman in journalism is remarkable. She has graced our screens for over twenty years with her insightful and engaging reporting.

As I interview her on an unusually warm evening in December, she has just finished writing a travel piece for the Telegraph and is preparing to present the News at Ten the next day. Despite her success, broadcast journalism was not her first port of call when she graduated from Oxford University.

“I started with long form investigative journalism, after two career false starts in management consultancy and advertising. One, which I enjoyed, and the other, which I did not. I just wanted something that I felt I would be entirely committed to and that I would believe in. For me, that was investigative journalism.”

Gender, she tells me, has never obstructed the progress of her career, as she went on to land a job as a researcher on Panorama in 1989 and then to present various flagship programmes for the BBC. She has presented not only the News at Six and at Ten, but Crimewatch, Antiques Roadshow and, most recently, Fake or Fortune.

She recalls only one of a handful times when she felt being a women proved a potential hurdle in her career.

“Very early in one of my first jobs at Panorama, I wanted to go the area of Turkey and Iraq informally known as Kurdistan. It was after the Gulf war, when Saddam Hussein had killed a few million people with a chemical attack on a place called Halabja.

“A British journalist had been there not long ago in that particular area I was looking to visit. When I asked my Editor about heading out there, he looked at me and asked himself whether it was a place he would send his own daughter.

“The issue was not that I was a woman, but rather it was a pretty dodgy place to go whoever you are. There was a high probability that Hussein might unleash chemical weapons and then obviously this journalist had died there recently. I had to persuade him that I would be fine and I was. That was the first time that my gender had really come up and it I hasn’t come up much since. It certainly hasn’t stopped me.”

She owes this in part to her personality.

“I’m not the kind of person who sits in the corner quietly and so maybe it’s for that reason that it has not been an issue for me.”

However, in the two decades she has been involved in broadcasting, she says she has noticed general progress in equality that is hard to ignore.

“I do think there has been progress for women, especially older women, in the time I have been at the BBC. Some of our finest women correspondents are of similar age to me.

“Take Lyse Doucet for instance. Her age or gender are not an issue, she is just brilliant. Similarly for Orla Guerin. Her age and gender are utterly irrelevant because her journalism is so stunningly good. Would women like that have flourished in the past? I am not sure if they would have, but they certainly do now.”

News journalism has typically been dominated by men, with the Washington Post revealing in 2014 that in America around two-thirds of newsrooms remain male. Discussing the balance in the BBC newsrooms, however, Fiona is fairly positive.

“The ratios in our team vary. Management in our newsroom has been quite female dominated in the past. At the moment it is quite male dominated. In the past, I have had both a female Head of News and a female Editor of the programme.

In the turbulence of 2016, Fiona has found herself reading the news in the midst of a political storm, whether that be in Britain, Syria, or across the pond in the US. Fiona admits that Brexit was “a difficult story to tell” and recognises the limitations of a short television bulletin when trying to cover such a complex referendum fully and objectively.

“The difficulty with Brexit is that both sides of the argument were not always entirely reliable with the facts. When you have a half-hour bulletin, how much of that are you going to devote to unpicking inaccuracies and trying to tell the truth?

“You can fact monitor much more easily online, but this is much harder during a short broadcast bulletin and in the case of rolling news. As a result, claims were exaggerated or underplayed.

“Could we have done better? I’m sure all of us could have, but it was a tricky one. When we were doing our bulletins I remember thinking 80 per cent of this is about Brexit, when there was other stuff going on readers wanted to know about.

“We have a duty to inform and yet we had to neglect that because there was so much to say about Brexit.”

Nonetheless, she affirms that the outcome was totally unprecedented and that the media did not affect the result. No-one anticipated the outcome.

“People get so much of their information elsewhere. I had others regularly asking me questions like if we stay in the EU will we have to have the Euro, which astonished me. When people are getting hold of ridiculous information like that online, we cannot flatter ourselves and claim we were the main influence.”

Despite Britain’s exit from the EU, her language skills that she acquired from her French and Italian degree will still come in “slightly handy”.

Speaking in light of the dramatic decline in the number of students studying Modern Languages at University, she tells me that her degree has enabled her to access culture in a way she could not have otherwise.

“My languages have come in slightly handy. I remember when I was on Panorama interviewing Italian politicians. They do not really like being interrupted and I remember thinking where am I going to get a question in here, so thank goodness for my languages.

“I still use my French and Italian on my art series. If I was to study languages again, I might choose something a little different. Perhaps Russian, Arabic or Chinese.

“Regardless, I think language learning is so important. Languages offer you an insight into a people and a culture and people that you simply cannot have if you do not speak the language.”

The metabolic key to novel therapies

Navigating metabolism, the sum total of all the chemical interconversions going on in a cell, is like navigating the London underground. It’s incredibly confusing to the outsider and necessitates precise control mechanisms of its interconnecting pathways. Key chemicals form nodes or junctions and can go down multiple overlapping lines, building and degrading all the components that a cell needs. A given cell has the capacity to use all these pathways but, just as the number of people using the underground varies, so too does the flux of activity down metabolic pathways.

Such a system must be flexible in order to cope with fluctuating demands of different types of cells. White blood cells, the armoury of our immune system, must rapidly alter their metabolism when faced with the strain of infection.

If metabolism is the London underground, then having an infection is the summer rush hour. Metabolic capacity is stretched to breaking point. To alleviate this pressure, immune cells rewire their metabolic pathways by switching to ‘Warburg’ metabolism whereby energy is generated by a non-oxygen consuming pathway making lactate, the molecule suspected to be responsible for muscle cramp.

In addition to this general energy switch, subtle metabolic differences exist between different subtypes of white blood cells that specialise them to their specific functions. Inflammation-causing  white blood cells, for instance, have the metabolic machinery to produce reactive nitric oxide which acts as a toxic bullet against pathogens, whereas tissue repairing white blood cells do not.

Partitioning of cellular jobs is important because the immune system has dual functionality. Not only must it destroy foreign cells, but also, simultaneously, limit lateral damage by protecting the body’s own healthy cells. By characterising the metabolic profiles of immune cells in health and disease, scientists hope to be able to reprogramme faulty metabolic circuits. This could form a novel treatment for autoimmune diseases such as multiple sclerosis and some cancers which occur when the immune system destroys its own cells.

“The hope is that simple manipulation of key pathway components will enable some simple reprogramming that will have minimal side effects,” says Professor Luke O’Neil, Professor of Immunology at Trinity College Dublin. He highlights recent findings showing the efficacy of a treatment for preventing organ rejection using metabolic pathway inhibitors, including an existing type II diabetes drug.

Furthermore, there is scope to improve existing socalled ‘immunotherapy’ to turn the patient’s own immune system on the patient’s own disease. In one such therapy, adoptive cell transfer, white blood cells engineered for a therapeutic function are introduced into the body. Professor O’Neil explains that “immunotherapies will undoubtedly benefit from any [metabolic reprogramming] strategy that maintains their functional state in the body, or that alternately rapidly turns them off if they cause side effects.”

The complexity and integrated nature of metabolic pathways makes progress in this area challenging and slow, yet a revival of the importance of metabolism in biochemistry is heralding progress in elucidating immune pathways and paving the way for therapeutic applications.

Marxist pigeons: a short guide to Oxford’s city wildlife

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The universal acclaim that greeted Planet Earth II shows that people still love watching nature documentaries. Optimists would see this as a sign that we still care about the environment. I am not so sure.

As a child, I watched nature documentaries to actually learn about the natural world. Now, people watch nature documentaries for their graphic violence and sexual content. Having lived in the 21st century for almost seventeen years, their minds now respond to little else.

Like everyone else, I was deeply saddened to see the end of Planet Earth II. Sex and violence abounded. I’ve never liked wasps, since one stung me on the ankle for absolutely no reason as a boy, and I like to see frogs do well, so what better way to spend a Sunday evening than watching a frog repeatedly kick a wasp in the eye? Few moments in modern British television have equalled the sight of the mighty snow leopard, wandering around the Himalayas, occasionally urinating alluringly on a rock.

The last episode of the series went into our cities. Pigeons were treated badly, being eaten by both peregrine falcons and immigrant fish. Monkeys did well; in one city in India they have convinced the locals that they are gods, and now abuse the humans’ goodwill, running around completely naked and demanding food.

The urban slant to this episode did however get me thinking about the animals that can be found in Oxford—and I’m not talking about the freshers! Most Oxford students are disgustingly self-centred, not only do they never take the time to appreciate the animal kingdom—the dissolute life they lead even has a harmful effect on animal life.

Instead of just looking at the nice river, they insist on rowing on it, killing innocent fish with every oar stroke. Instead of walking around the nice meadow, they must run around it in tight sportswear, every other step crushing a duck’s windpipe. Instead of just going to the nice nightclub and listening to the music, they insist on taking ketamine—thereby depriving horses of much-needed stress relief in the modern business environment.

In my one and a half years at Oxford, I have come to appreciate the amazing wealth and diversity of wildlife in Oxford, and I now take almost as much pleasure in looking at animals in real life, as I do from memes. Oxford’s animals have evolved over time to take advantage of the city’s scholastic environment.

In my first term at Oxford I was surprised to stumble upon a reading group for Marxist pigeons, convened in the bird pond outside my building. Magdalen College was originally set up to that local aristocratic families could provide an education for their deer herds, but after the publication of George Orwell’s Animal Farm, which warned all landowners of the dangers of talking animals, an age-old tradition was ceased.

Now the deer must make do with the occasional piece of cheap airport literature thrown into their paddock by ‘allied’ students.

I could go on enumerating the many wonders of Oxford’s animal scene: the feminist rats, the techno cattle, even the queer squirrels. I have learnt however in my time at Oxford that most students are simply not interested in the benefits that quiet contemplation of nature can bring. Nature is only of interest to them when it appears mediated by a television screen and David Attenborough’s rasping death rattle.

Compared to the glamourous lives of the animals we see in Planet Earth, it is easy to wrongly believe that Oxford’s non-human inhabitants are boring creatures. This couldn’t be further from the truth. The animals that David Attenborough presents to us are horrible show-offs, whereas the rats and pigeons of Oxford retain a modicum of traditional British reticence.

Your average black rat is perfectly capable of hunting giraffes in the desert, or of catching a fish for its wife and family in the waters of the Antarctic. It chooses not to however out of its natural modesty.

Perhaps there is a lesson here for all of us.

The Road of Dreams

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We are fortunate to be at the age when everyone can claim to be a travel guru. The globe has never been so connected with the exploding number of budget airlines and the expanding diversity of accommodation models.

Yet when you are nurturing your feverish relationship with Trip Advisor, eyes obsessively scrolling through Lonely Planet, fingers cuddling with the Expedia in your hand… how much do you really know about travelling? Nowadays, travelling has become an affordable leisure.

Nearly a century ago, it represented a steely resolution for absolute freedom, whether for materialistic or spiritual terms. Completed in 1927, Route 66 is one of the first highways connecting the East and the West coast in the United States. Its entire 2,448 miles have witnessed innumerable footsteps in the pursuit of better lives, titanic hardship, extreme weather and short supplies, and the road gained prosperity from related highway businesses.

Some of those who took it failed and paid their lives. Travelling was once a life-and-death decision, not just a leisurely impulse.

Dr Nick Lane on the origin of life

Theorising on the origin of life has always been popular in both science and in philosophy. Some even argue it is this that makes us human. Scientific theories and hypotheses abound, ranging from the traditional ‘primordial soup’, in which biological molecules build up in fermenting sludge, to clay or ice settings, or even to extra-terrestrial origins. Recently, another hypothesis has been taking popular science by storm. Reading the New Scientist or watching BBC’s Forces of Nature, you might be forgiven for thinking all other hypotheses have been left for dead.

The hypothesis is known in full as the ‘alkaline hydrothermal vent hypothesis’. Alkaline hydrothermal vents are towers of porous rock on the sea floor which spurt out warm, alkaline water into the surrounding seawater. Each tower is made up of thousands of interconnecting microscopic cavities, with each cavity a similar size to a biological cell. This vent hypothesis proposes that basic organic chemicals built up within these cavities, becoming concentrated enough to react and form the simple biochemical molecules that life relies on like RNA. From here, the ‘inorganic cells’ were free to ‘evolve’ via the synthesis of more complex biological molecules like proteins and DNA.

Dr Nick Lane is a principle proponent of this hypothesis. A biochemist at University College London and well-established popular science author, many a biochemistry applicant will be familiar with his name having embellished their personal statements with books such as Life Ascending and The Vital Question. “If you try to put complex ideas into terms that people who don’t have a scientific background can understand then you come face to face with all the things you don’t understand yourself,” Dr Lane says of his love of writing.

First, to set things straight, is this a hypothesis or a theory? “Hypothesis” is the prompt reply. The distinction is often ambiguous—“it’s a very difficult dividing line”—and the two terms are often used somewhat interchangeably, yet a theory would indicate a greater degree of certainty than the term ‘hypothesis’. “I think that for it to become a theory it requires a general consensus buy-in from most of the people in the field. From people outside the field there is a lot of buy in, but from people in the field, especially the chemists, there’s not very much at all. It’s quite a fractious topic.” This by no means indicates that the idea is incorrect, but highlights that “it requires a lot more experimental work behind it than there is at the moment”.

“We’ve managed to make some very simple molecules: two or three carbons in a chain and that’s about it so far. What we’re doing now is almost amateurish in the sense that the vents themselves are tens of metres tall, they’re at high pressure, there are all kinds of catalysts— we don’t really know exactly what they are— and back four billion years ago it would have been strictly anoxic conditions, where you would expect these reactions to happen much better. In the lab we’re doing it on a very small scale; the conditions are not equivalent really. The hope is that it works a bit so that we can get the attention of others to do more of it.”

The difficulty is that other chemists, working under very different reaction conditions from those which would have been found in the alkaline hydrothermal vents, have got far further down the biochemical line with their simulations. “The chemistry works very well if you start with cyanide, for example, and you use ultraviolet radiation as an energy source. That’s why the chemists are not persuaded that the vents have anything to offer. You will get UV radiation in sunlit environments; deep sea hydrothermal vents don’t have any UV radiation to speak of…but the problem from my point of view is that no cell uses cyanide as a source of either carbon or nitrogen—[in fact] it’s a pretty serious toxin. And no cell uses UV radiation as a source of energy; it’s damaging rather than creative. So either there is a big discontinuity in the origin of life, and [mechanisms used by modern life had to be] reinvented from scratch, or there’s something about the more reluctant chemistry in hydrothermal vents which allows carbon dioxide to react with hydrogen.”

This is where the alkaline hydrothermal vent hypothesis comes into its own. Whereas other theories may ‘work’ better in terms of making the molecular building blocks of life, they make less sense in their proposed evolutionary routes from the very first life form to those we see around us today. For example, many key enzymes—that is, biological catalysts—used by life today have iron-sulphur minerals at their reaction centre, catalysts that would have lined the walls of the vents at the emergence of life 3.8 billion years ago.

The key idea of the hypothesis, though, is the proposed ‘power source’ for the life-forming reactions in the vents. In order to build biological molecules, there must be a source of energy to make the reactions proceed—biological molecules cannot just spontaneously form. Every living cell alive today uses a bizarre mechanism for generating this energy involving the flow of protons across a membrane, similar to the way in which flowing water generates electricity in hydroelectric plants. The alkaline hydrothermal vents are predicted to have had a similar, natural proton flow across the porous vent walls, and a plausible mechanism for primordial reactions harnessing this flow can be drawn up.

“The proponents of other theories don’t feel obliged to [offer an explanation for this] because it requires very complex membranes and fairly complex proteins to operate at all, so it’s easy to say ‘Oh well, it arose later’.”

Yet all life relies so heavily upon this mechanism that it would seem logical to assume that the last ancestor common to all life did likewise. “What the biological context really says is that not only is all life doing it, but also that both sides of the deepest split in life—between bacteria and archaea—are using proton gradients to drive growth and metabolism, but the way in which they generate the proton gradients differs. That implies they perhaps used natural proton gradients and puts you into the vent scenario. So it’s not proof, but it points in a direction which suggests there is a problem to answer.”

“It is very easy to avoid questions in this field because there are so many. As a biochemist I see the most relevant and most interesting questions as different from [those of the chemists].”

Lane hopes that further chemical simulations will provide the evidential support hypothesis needs. It is worth remembering, however, that research into the origin of life has always been—and should always be—viewed with some caution. Until the invention of a time machine we will never be able to prove that life on Earth started in any one way, the closest we will ever come is stating that it could have done.

Don’t mess with Artemesia

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The name Artemisia has a long, illustrious history. Artemisia I of Caria was a commander for the Persian imperial fleet during the second invasion of Greece, whilst Artemisia II of Caria was responsible for the construction of the Mausoleum at Halicarnassus, one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. The third great Artemisia was the Italian Baroque painter Artemisia Gentileschi. The daughter of painter Orazio Gentileschi, she was raised in a world of art. Spending her childhood and adolescence in her father’s workshop, she displayed more talent than her brothers and came to be influenced by the style of the great Caravaggio, a friend of the family.

In some ways, Gentileschi was a member of the artistic establishment. She received the patronage of such potentates as Cosimo II de’ Medici, Grand Duke of Tuscany, and Charles I of England and was ultimately accepted as the first female member of the Florentine Academy. However, in both her work and her personal life she stood on society’s margins, daring to paint powerful female subjects in defiance of artistic and cultural norms, refusing to be submissive.

In 1610, at just seventeen years of age, she painted ‘Susanna and the Elders’. The way in which she depicted the characters and events of the Biblical episode differed markedly from her contemporaries and gave some early indication of what her approach to the world was going to be.

Recounted in the Book of Daniel, the story of Susanna tells of a lady bathing in her garden when she is discovered by two elderly voyeurs who threaten to accuse her of meeting a young man in her garden if she refuses to have sex with them. She does refuse and is promptly arrested. Before being put to death, Daniel interrupts and demands that the elders be questioned to prove the veracity of their claims. They give differing accounts, undermining their story and saving Susanna’s life.

In Alessandro Allori’s depiction of this episode, the nude Susanna appears barely perturbed, seemingly caressing one of the men’s cheek and holding the other’s head to her chest. Indeed, Allori includes sumptuous cloths and a small spaniel to complete the harmless scene. In stark contrast, Gentileschi’s Susanna is movingly disturbed by the old men who are shown to be plotting villains, preying on the innocent from above. The whole tone of the painting is markedly different thanks to Gentileschi’s more subdued palette with the elders’ red cloaks only serving to highlight their danger in comparison to Susanna’s guiltless white.

The horrors of sexual assault entered Gentileschi’s own life the following year when she was raped by Agostino Tassi, a colleague of her father. The brutal patriarchy of early modern Rome forced Gentileschi to endure humiliation and torture. Following the rape, her father did not press charges as the pair continued a sexual relationship which was meant to ultimately lead to marriage. It was not until nine months had passed and it emerged that Tassi was not planning to wed Gentileschi that charges were brought against him.

The central issue of the trial was not the rape but rather the victim’s virginity when the rape occurred, for had Gentileschi not been a virgin Tassi would not have been convicted. During the seven-month trial she was subjected to a gynaecological examination and torture using thumbscrews in order to validate her evidence.

This event evidently had a profound effect on Gentileschi’s life, seen most clearly in her masterpiece ‘Judith Slaying Holofernes’. Although the story of Judith was a common subject in Renaissance and Baroque painting, like her depiction of Susanna, Gentileschi’s reinterpretation of the topos is strikingly profeminine. Told in the Book of Judith, Holofernes, an Assyrian general planning to destroy the city of Bethulia, is overcome with desire for the Jewish widow who is consequently permitted entrance to his tent. She plies him with drink until he passes out and then beheads him and saves her home.

Gentileschi’s ‘Judith Slaying Holofernes’ markedly contrasts the work of Caravaggio, whom she had been taught to follow by her father. Caravaggio’s painting of this scene gives the impression that his decapitation is almost effortless with Judith standing back and looking curious rather than furious. Gentileschi’s Judith is actively engaged both emotionally and physically, her face contorted and her hand holding Holofernes’ head down with apparently considerable force. The blood spurts from the wound in every direction and cascades down the bed whilst Caravaggio is much more reserved. The increased energy and visceral nature of Gentileschi’s work is given further significance when the viewer realises that Holofernes is in fact a painting of Tassi and Judith a self-portrait.

A prolific and talented artist, the story of her life and the world in which she lived only serve to vindicate her achievements. Artemisia Gentileschi was an exceedingly worthy bearer of that name.