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Magazine R941 Q&A Roger Carpenter Roger Carpenter is Reader in Oculomotor Physiology at the University of Cambridge. His main research interest is eye movements, and especially the neural decision mechanisms that determine where you look. He is the author of Movements of the Eyes as well as of the highly successful textbook Neurophysiology. In 2000 he was one of the inaugural winners of a national teaching prize. What turned you on to your area of science in the first place? At school, chemistry seemed the exciting thing — in those wonderful days before ‘health and safety’ we all loved the miniature explosions, the vivid colours and smells, the sense of dicing with death as we sucked concentrated sulphuric acid into our pipettes. Because the scholarship exam for Cambridge was in December, after school I had the luxury of eight months to do what I liked in. I spent them working as a stageaire at the Nestlé labs in Switzerland, helping to find out just which chemicals in coffee make it smell good. Browsing in their superb library during the long lunch breaks, I stumbled across Adrian’s Physical Background of Perception and other books about the brain — and got inextricably hooked. So despite knowing no real biology at all, when I got to Cambridge I promptly dropped chemistry and combined physiology with physics and maths and psychology — a heady mixture, especially in a lab where Hodgkin and Huxley were solving nerve, William Rushton was working out the mechanisms of retinal adaptation, and eccentrics such as Giles Brindley and Fergus Campbell forced one to question everything one thought one knew. Do you have a favourite paper? For over 30 years, oculomotor neurophysiology was dominated by David Robinson at Johns Hopkins. By training an engineer, with an apparently infinite store of novel and compelling ideas, he set out to work steadily through the neural circuitry that moves the eyes, identifying its quantitative functions stage by stage. It really all started in 1964 with The mechanics of human saccadic eye movements (J. Physiol 174, 245-264), in which he demonstrated just how ill-suited the oculomotor ‘plant’ is for what it has to do, and the corresponding sophistication of the neural command signals that enable it nevertheless to function adequately. From this beginning, he was able to work systematically backwards: first the motor neurons, then the brainstem circuits that drive them … the rest is history. Do you enjoy conferences? Loath them: all that angst and pushy networking. But very small symposia amongst colleagues who are in speculative rather than competitive mode, such as the ones hosted by Novartis in London … that’s a different matter. Do you have a scientific hero? We’re all dazzled by the brilliant insights of the Einsteins and Newtons, the Beethovens and Wagners of science. But I have to say that personally I’m more impressed by the quieter profundity (and thorough professionalism) of Hermann von Helmholtz, the scientific equivalent of J.S.Bach. He started as a medical student, but already by the age of 27 his scientific work, notably on the conservation of energy, had gained him the Chair of Physiology at Königsberg. There he made far- reaching contributions to the study of nerve and physiological optics — including the invention of the ophthalmoscope — and later the function of the ear, culminating in those two monumental works, the Handbuch der physiologischen Optik and Die Lehre von den Tonempfindungen. Gradually his interests began to become more purely physical, and he contributed in fundamental ways to dynamics, optics, electromagnetism … the range of his achievement was simply astonishing. It tells you something about his scientific stature that he is claimed as a physiologist by physiologists and as a physicist by physicists. How does the future for biology in universities look? Not good. A general shortage of money has gone hand-in-hand with the most crazily bean-counting ways of allocating it, which paradoxically encourage waste and inefficiency. Faculty appointments are now more determined by how much money a candidate is likely to attract than how good their research is (and certainly not by the quality of their teaching, an activity increasingly regarded as a shameful waste of resources). So there is pressure to set up factory- like labs with serried ranks of post- docs and graduate students, doing regimented routines at the bench as they get trained up for non- existent jobs. It’s not a life to attract the most spirited or intelligent of our students, who tend to look to the City if they want to use their brains. Nor does it make much economic sense. Large labs publish less per capita than small ones, and because — notoriously — research grants never cover their costs, faculties get even deeper into financial difficulties, and impose yet further cuts in student teaching. One day, when the Government eventually realises what is going on, it will all end in tears; but even if they don’t, the present system is unsustainable and intrinsically unstable. If you were starting over again, would you still pursue the same career path? My ambition at the age of 10 was to be a mad scientist, working in an attic filled with Frankensteinish equipment — and I have succeeded beyond my wildest dreams! So yes. The Physiological Laboratory, University of Cambridge, Cambridge CB2 3EG, UK.

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MagazineR941

Q & A

Roger CarpenterRoger Carpenter is Reader inOculomotor Physiology at theUniversity of Cambridge. His mainresearch interest is eyemovements, and especially theneural decision mechanisms thatdetermine where you look. He isthe author of Movements of theEyes as well as of the highlysuccessful textbookNeurophysiology. In 2000 he wasone of the inaugural winners of anational teaching prize.

What turned you on to your areaof science in the first place? Atschool, chemistry seemed theexciting thing — in those wonderfuldays before ‘health and safety’ weall loved the miniature explosions,the vivid colours and smells, thesense of dicing with death as wesucked concentrated sulphuricacid into our pipettes. Because thescholarship exam for Cambridgewas in December, after school Ihad the luxury of eight months todo what I liked in. I spent themworking as a stageaire at the Nestlélabs in Switzerland, helping to findout just which chemicals in coffeemake it smell good. Browsing intheir superb library during the longlunch breaks, I stumbled acrossAdrian’s Physical Background ofPerception and other books aboutthe brain — and got inextricablyhooked. So despite knowing noreal biology at all, when I got toCambridge I promptly droppedchemistry and combinedphysiology with physics and mathsand psychology — a headymixture, especially in a lab whereHodgkin and Huxley were solvingnerve, William Rushton wasworking out the mechanisms ofretinal adaptation, and eccentricssuch as Giles Brindley and FergusCampbell forced one to questioneverything one thought one knew.

Do you have a favourite paper?For over 30 years, oculomotorneurophysiology was dominated byDavid Robinson at Johns Hopkins.By training an engineer, with anapparently infinite store of novel

and compelling ideas, he set out towork steadily through the neuralcircuitry that moves the eyes,identifying its quantitative functionsstage by stage. It really all startedin 1964 with The mechanics ofhuman saccadic eye movements(J. Physiol 174, 245-264), in whichhe demonstrated just how ill-suitedthe oculomotor ‘plant’ is for what ithas to do, and the correspondingsophistication of the neuralcommand signals that enable itnevertheless to functionadequately. From this beginning,he was able to work systematicallybackwards: first the motor neurons,then the brainstem circuits thatdrive them … the rest is history.

Do you enjoy conferences? Loaththem: all that angst and pushynetworking. But very smallsymposia amongst colleagues whoare in speculative rather thancompetitive mode, such as theones hosted by Novartis in London… that’s a different matter.

Do you have a scientific hero?We’re all dazzled by the brilliantinsights of the Einsteins andNewtons, the Beethovens andWagners of science. But I have tosay that personally I’m moreimpressed by the quieter profundity(and thorough professionalism) ofHermann von Helmholtz, thescientific equivalent of J.S.Bach.He started as a medical student,but already by the age of 27 hisscientific work, notably on theconservation of energy, had gainedhim the Chair of Physiology atKönigsberg. There he made far-reaching contributions to the studyof nerve and physiological optics— including the invention of theophthalmoscope — and later thefunction of the ear, culminating inthose two monumental works, theHandbuch der physiologischenOptik and Die Lehre von denTonempfindungen. Gradually hisinterests began to become morepurely physical, and he contributedin fundamental ways to dynamics,optics, electromagnetism … therange of his achievement wassimply astonishing. It tells yousomething about his scientificstature that he is claimed as aphysiologist by physiologists andas a physicist by physicists.

How does the future for biologyin universities look? Not good. Ageneral shortage of money hasgone hand-in-hand with the mostcrazily bean-counting ways ofallocating it, which paradoxicallyencourage waste and inefficiency.Faculty appointments are nowmore determined by how muchmoney a candidate is likely toattract than how good theirresearch is (and certainly not by thequality of their teaching, an activityincreasingly regarded as ashameful waste of resources). Sothere is pressure to set up factory-like labs with serried ranks of post-docs and graduate students, doingregimented routines at the benchas they get trained up for non-existent jobs. It’s not a life to attractthe most spirited or intelligent ofour students, who tend to look tothe City if they want to use theirbrains. Nor does it make mucheconomic sense. Large labspublish less per capita than smallones, and because — notoriously— research grants never covertheir costs, faculties get evendeeper into financial difficulties,and impose yet further cuts instudent teaching. One day, whenthe Government eventually realiseswhat is going on, it will all end intears; but even if they don’t, thepresent system is unsustainableand intrinsically unstable.

If you were starting over again,would you still pursue the samecareer path? My ambition at theage of 10 was to be a madscientist, working in an attic filledwith Frankensteinish equipment —and I have succeeded beyond mywildest dreams! So yes.The Physiological Laboratory, Universityof Cambridge, Cambridge CB2 3EG, UK.