Han and NgAgo: Everything outside Science

A protein extracted from bacteria N. gregoryi, NgAgo was acclaimed to be the next-generation genome editing tool. However, a number of scientists have challenged this discovery. Here I compare this controversy to other similar incidents and propose a possible outcome. A full report of my investigation with scientists from Tufts Medical School can be found here.

So NgAgo has ended. After three months of endless failed replication, the verdict is clear: it will not work. The Google group that once held heated debates for scientists across the world is now dead quite. On twitter, #NgAgo is often juxtaposed with #failed. Requests for updated protocols and troubleshooting are replaced with trolls and memes. The only speculators left are media searching for eye-catching stories and, in Chinese discussion boards, netizens fueled with nationalist sentiments. It seems that Han and his NgAgo will be forgotten very soon.

But it is not what it seems to be. While the science community has turned its back on him, Han has a group of firm supporters. Investors from local biotech companies throw their cards in a pile on Han’s desk. Journalists write a new interview with him on almost a daily basis. So many curious university students and even tourists pay visits to his lab that the department had to install a security system for the old lab building. Han also has official supporters. He was granted a 3m yuan (500k $) research fund from local government for further investigation of NgAgo. Congressmen and top officials in Beijing held meetings with him, praise him for his “Noble-prize level discovery”. State media called him “grassroots hero” with “underlying characteristics of world-class scientist”. Han’s fame was not at all tainted by the discouraging news on Twitter and Google group.

This is not how the story usually goes. In other cases, scientists involved in controversies had to fight hard for their legitimacy rather than sitting comfortably on a generous sum of investment. Those who failed to prove themselves clean (as in Han’s case) could face serious consequences. A famous example is Japanese scientist Haruko Obokata. After several scientists reported that her experiment on STAP cells could not be replicated, her institute quickly established an investigation team and disproved her finding. Her paper was retracted, her doctorate degree cancelled, and her mentor and co-author committed suicide under pressure. Another example is South Korean scientist Hwang Woo-suk, who was sentenced to two years in prison after his research was found forging his paper and appropriating funds. Like Han, these two scientists were highly praised before wrinkles found in their research. Ms. Obokata was granted the title “future Noble Prize candidate” and Mr. Hwang was considered as a “national hero” representing South Korea’s scientific progress. But unlike Han, these scientists lived quite a rough life after their findings had been challenged.

What makes Han different from Obokata and Hwang, except for that they are from three different countries? Well, exactly that. The fact that Han is from China, not Japan or Korea, is the reason that he can enjoy the (highly-likely) underserved glory while safely evade doubts from other scientists. Combing through similar controversies in China, one would not find Han’s story a peculiar case. In 2003, Shanghai Jiaotong University professor Chen Jin erased logos from a hundred Motorola microchips and painted them with his own brand, Hanxin, and claimed he had invented the fastest microchips on earth. With his Motorola chips, Chen gained billions of investments before he was debunked by a worker who erased the logo for him, but only after he had developed four versions of Hanxin. Thanks to Chen’s vast connection in the government and bribe to other professors, Hanxin was able to pass layers of government scrutinizes to file 12 national patents and attract 300-million-dollar worth’s funds. The system was in Chen’s favor even after he was debunked: he simply disappeared from all media coverage without facing any legal trial. While Han’s “technique” may be less blatant and more scientific than Chen’s, their discovery has led them through more or less the same path. Chen was awarded “Cheung Kong Scholars”, the second highest honor for Chinese scientists, and Han’s application for the title is underway.

Currently, Han has a corrupted system covering for him while the science community is pressure him for the truth. The best strategy for Han is probably to sit back and watch everything unfold around him. Any action, such as inviting independent researchers to repeat his experiment, would only draw him closer to the inevitable end. Refusing to get involved in any form of discussion would at least delude those outside the science community, such as his investors and government officials who acclaimed him. And that is indeed what he is doing. In a number of interviews, Han described himself as a “recluse” who enjoys tea and traditional musics. He has remained silent on the details of his technique in early June, but never stopped telling his interviewers that the doubts, lack “scientific ground” despite a number of detailed procedures published by disappointed scientists around the world. “Recluse” is never the answer for anyone in the middle of an academic controversy, but for Han it is the only way to protect himself from becoming the next Obokata or Hwang.

Han’s story reveals a corrupted system. In the end, a verdict from Nature Biotechnology will stifle the controversy as well as the grumpy scientists who spent days and nights repeating his experiment. But with some arrangement, he will probably retain most of his trophies: the titles, the investments, and part of the fame. He might even write a bestseller to reaffirm his faith in NgAgo after several years, like Obokata did early this year.