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< Back to Issue 6 Editorial by Ingrid Sefton & Rachel Ko 28 May 2024 Edited by Committee Illustrated by Louise Cen Science craves fundamentals. Without a true appreciation of the basics, the most complex and elaborate theories will crumble. Both the natural and manmade worlds are meticulously crafted, full to the brim with nuances and modulations, from the laws of physics to the laws of democracy. There is, in our minds, an inextricable desire for classification, organisation, rationalisation. We are in a ruthless pursuit of understanding, striving to decompose the elemental origins of the world around us into fathomable pieces. What drives this urge to discern the building blocks of life? Perhaps, it is the belief that a bottom-up understanding of the laws governing the universe will afford us the ability to reconstruct and create. To know how to defy these laws, rebelling against constraints of the natural world. It is also conceivable that this desire stems from overwhelm. We may never truly understand the expanse of natural forces, cosmological phenomena and ubiquitous elemental power operating beyond any level of mortal control. By examining the microscopic, science becomes tangible. But in isolation, these atoms, elements, fragments of knowledge are just that: fragmented. Scientific understanding exists on a continuum, where the microscopic informs the macroscopic and is contextualised by time, place and culture. It leads one to wonder how exactly “science” should be conceptualised. There is no doubt many people conceive a certain rationality and procedure inherent to scientific progress. Yet, the idea of a specific methodology with the aim to uncover a particular truth is a relatively modern perception of science. Our yearning for understanding and knowledge, on the other hand, is anything but new. Knowledge systems adapt. We observe, we learn, we ask questions. Scientific method and controlled experimentation inform our understanding. But we are also human; inextricably driven by passion and curiosity and irrationality. Should science seek to exclude these values and forces guiding our intrigue? Elemental asks of its contributors to transform their perspective on scientific exploration and consider these different scales of understanding. Creation, destruction, classification and investigation are united in this issue, through the elements of Science. Join us as we dissect our world, from the most natural senses of the human state, to the most mysterious artificial elements of technological intelligence, and beyond. Come explore! Let us see what we can create. Previous article Next article Elemental back to

< Back to Issue 5 A Message from the Editors in Chief Rachel Ko & Ingrid Sefton 24 October 2023 Edited by Committee Illustrated by Aisyah Mohammad Sulhanuddin “There are known knowns. These are things we know that we know. There are known unknowns. That is to say, there are things that we know we don't know. But there are also unknown unknowns. There are things we don't know we don't know.” - Donald Rumsfeld Science should never be considered as pursuing absolute truth. In fact, more often than not, the deeper we dive into its exploration, the more questions that arise. The world of science affords us choices in how we appropriate the understandings and knowledge gained in its study. Every day, science pushes us to tiptoe this fine line between pushing boundaries and crossing them altogether. It is perhaps this unknown that makes the pursuit of science so wicked in itself, taunting us with the promise of making the next big discovery, or finally finding the cure to cancer. But it is also what drives us, entrances us, and keeps our desire for knowledge burning — it’s edge-of-your-seat exciting. At its onset, we envisioned this issue as a chance to probe the mysterious nuances of science — a peek into the ‘Wicked’ness of the world. Seeking to ask questions of the ethical, the malicious and the unknown, contributors were inspired to delve into the darker sides of science. Each article ventures into the limits of what we do, and, just as importantly, don’t know in this ever-evolving field. The word Wicked in itself is a complex character, begging for ambiguous interpretation. Is there such a thing as pure evil? Are we all, just a bit, inherently wicked? What makes something wickedly cool? (Was Kristin Chenoweth’s Glinda the best portrayal that Broadway could ask for?) And so, in the hands of our creators, something wicked this way comes … As with every edition of our magazine, each piece has been created, edited and illustrated entirely by students. This issue continues to stand true to our aim of providing a platform within, and beyond, the university community for students of all backgrounds to craft their science communication skills in a supportive, creative environment. Countless hours have been poured into the curation of each edition with the hope of making innovative science content easily accessible — so please, enjoy! To all our passionate, dedicated contributors - thank you for the time you have invested in crafting the wonderful, wicked world of Issue 5 of OmniSci. It has been a privilege to watch the collaboration of inquisitive minds, from diverse scientific and artistic worlds, produce this collection of work. We also wish to extend our gratitude to you, our wonderful readers, in your ongoing support of OmniSci. The time you give to reading and engaging with our student-driven magazine does not go unnoticed, motivating and inspiring us for our future endeavours. Now, take a moment, and come venture into the Wicked world of Issue 5 with us… Wicked back to

< Back to Issue 2 Hidden Worlds: a peek into the nanoscale using helium ion microscopy How do scientists know what happens at scales smaller than you can see using an optical microscope? One exciting method is the helium ion microscope which can be used to view cells, crystals and specially engineered materials with extreme detail, revealing the beauty that exists at scales too small to imagine! by Erin Grant 10 December 2021 Edited by Jessica Nguy and Hamish Payne Illustrated by Erin Grant The room is white, with three smooth walls and a fourth containing a small sample prep bench and high shelves. In the centre is a desk with three monitors. Next to it, occupying most of the space, is the microscope. Eight feet tall, a few feet wide, resting on an isolated floor surrounded by caution tape; “NO STEP” written in big block letters. Wires protrude from its tiered shape in orderly chaos. It is a clean, technological space; we are ready to explore science. A colleague and I are at the Materials Characterisation and Fabrication Platform of the University of Melbourne to finish off the last steps of a scientific paper I’ve been working on for many years. What I need, as the icing on the cake, is an image. What does my sample look like way down there, at the nanometre scale? Objects that are only nanometres in size are very hard to imagine when we’re used to thinking about metres, centimetres, or maybe even millimetres. We can see those length scales; they are part of our everyday. So, if you’re told that proteins have a diameter of a few nanometres, what does that mean? Well, to be precise, a nanometre is one-billionth of a metre. A human hair, the go-to yardstick for describing small things, has a width between 0.05-0.1 millimetres, which means that if you wanted to slice a hair into nanometre-wide strands you’d end up with nearly 100,000 pieces. Unfortunately, that’s still hard to visualise, but I’ve found that when working with and thinking about scales like this every day, you gain a sort of mental landscape that small things occupy, perhaps not entirely in context, but a space that contains an overall ‘vibe’ of smallness. I first noticed this when I worked in a laboratory that studies the tiny nematode worm C. elegans. These creatures are half a millimetre long, so although they are clearly visible to the naked eye, you need a microscope if you want to use them for science. After looking at these tiny creatures under magnification for many weeks, I came to recognise a feeling almost like being underwater. Upon putting my eyes to the lens, my focus would change from the macroscopic world around me, to one of minutiae. This change in perspective was quite immersive, I almost felt like I was inhabiting that small petri dish too. Working with samples even smaller than that now, I have carried some of that mental landscape with me. It now feels commonplace to imagine tiny systems, such as crystals or molecules which were once foreign. Much of this ability to visualise small things comes from the fact that in many cases, we can actually see them too. Physics has given us many tools with which we can peer into the smallest systems that exist. Helium ion microscopy, which I have come here to carry out, is one such technique. Dr Anders Barlow runs the helium ion microscope (HIM) at this facility. He warmly welcomes me and my colleague into the quiet room and jumps straight into an enthusiastic explanation of the machine – he can tell we’re not just here for some pictures, we want to know the inner workings of the microscope too. The HIM is a bit like the more mature surveyor of minuscule worlds: the electron microscope. While a regular optical microscope uses light to illuminate a sample, the electron microscope uses electrons. When they collide with the sample these electrons can bounce off or lose energy through several mechanisms. The lost energy can go into heat or light, but more usefully, the energy might be transferred to other electrons in the sample, called secondary electrons, ejecting them like a drill removing rocks from a quarry. The secondary electrons can be detected at each point across the sample as the beam is scanned over its surface. If more electrons are detected, then the pixel at that point is brighter compared to areas where there are fewer electrons. This tells you about the topography or composition of the sample at that point on its surface and provides a grayscale image. The HIM works in the same way, but it can generate sharper images because helium ions are heavier than electrons. This is important because the increased resolution of electron and helium ion microscopes is enabled by their quantum mechanical properties - namely the particle’s wavelength. You may have heard about the wave-like nature of light, which is a basic property of quantum mechanics. Particles also have a wavelength, called the de Broglie wavelength, which is inversely proportional to their mass - the heavier the particle, the shorter the wavelength. Having a shorter wavelength allows smaller details to be resolved because of a pesky phenomenon called diffraction. Diffraction occurs when a wave encounters a gap that is of the same or smaller width to its wavelength. When this happens, the wave that emerges on the other side will be spread out. You can think of the features that you want to image as being similar to gaps, so when light, or a particle, interacts with features that are very close together it will spread out, making those features blurry or even invisible. But if you can ensure that the wavelength is smaller than whatever feature you want to see, diffraction will not occur. Interestingly, physicists can actually take advantage of diffraction, and another phenomenon called interference, when they study periodic structures like crystals, but that’s a different article! So, because the de Broglie wavelength is very short for particles with mass, like electrons, an electron microscope can generate images of higher resolution than an optical microscope. Likewise, helium ions are even heavier than electrons because they are composed of one electron, two protons, and two neutrons. This makes them about 7,000 times heavier than a single electron (electrons are very light compared to protons and neutrons!) and consequently the images they can make are very sharp. With our samples ready, lab manager Anders loads my sample into the microscope and begins lowering the pressure in its internal chamber. Having a high vacuum – approximately a billion times lower than atmospheric pressure – is essential because it prevents air from interfering with the helium beam. Making the beam is perhaps the most miraculous part of this technological feat. At the very top of the microscope’s column, there’s a tiny filament shaped like a needle. Not like a needle, in fact, it is the sharpest needle we humans can make. To achieve this, the point is shaped by first extreme heat, and then some extreme voltages until the very tip is composed of only three atoms, reverently referred to as the trimer. Once the trimer has been formed, a high voltage is applied to the needle, resulting in an extreme electric field around the tip. Next, helium gas is introduced into the chamber and individual helium atoms are attracted towards the region of the high electric field. The field is so strong that it strips each helium atom of one electron, ionising it, and these now positively charged ions are repelled from each of the three atoms in the trimer as three corresponding beams. Using sophisticated focusing fields down the length of the column allows Anders to choose only one of the beams for imaging; we are creating a picture using a beam only one atom wide! Generating such a precise beam requires constant maintenance, but once Anders is satisfied with how it looks today, he begins scanning over a large area for what we’ve come to find: tiny proteins stuck to a diamond. In an experimental PhD, you often find yourself answering small incremental questions and today I want to know how well I’ve attached these proteins to my diamond and what the coverage looks like. Other measures have told me that I probably have a lot of them, but the best way to know is to have a look! That’s what Anders does for researchers at the university; he helps us find out whether we have done a good job putting things together or coming up with new techniques. This is something he loves about his job. “I love the exposure I get to many areas of science,” he says, “Imaging of all forms is ubiquitous in research, and the HIM is applicable to most fields, so we see samples from materials science, polymers, nanomaterials, and biomaterials, through to medical technologies and devices, to cell and tissue biology of human, plant and animal origin. I never get tired of seeing what new specimens may come through the lab door.” Unfortunately, the first images we see are very dark and washed out, like a photograph taken in low-light; not many secondary electrons are making it to the detector. To combat this, Anders uses a flood gun to stop charge build up on the surface of the diamond. When the helium ions create secondary electrons, they are ejected from the surface at low speeds. As electrons are negatively charged, the bombarded surface, which now lacks electrons, will become positive and the low energy secondary electrons will be attracted back to the surface instead of making it to the detector. In an electron microscope this is avoided by coating insulators, such as my diamond, with a conductive material like gold. If the surface is conductive, the positive charge that is left behind by the secondary electrons will be offset by electrons from the metallic coating that can flow towards the sudden appearance of positive charges. In this case, the ejected electrons can escape and be detected. However, a coating like this would reduce the resolution of the image; if you want to measure proteins that are twelve nanometres high, but you put a three-nanometre coating over them, you’ll lose a lot of the resolution! To get around this, the HIM uses the flood gun, which lightly sprays the surface with electrons of low energy as the helium beam passes over. This neutralises the surface and lets the secondary electrons escape in the same way as having a conductive layer. Once Anders turns on the flood gun, the contrast increases, allowing us to zoom in on a small region of the diamond, and there they are! Thousands of spherical proteins arranged neatly across the surface, only twelve nanometres in diameter. The sight is spectacular, only one try and we got what we came for. I am three years into a PhD and I’ve become very used to the feeling of disappointment that can accompany new experimental techniques. Things rarely work out the first time around, so to see those little spheres straight away was magical. Dotted across the diamond surface is another, extra, gem. To keep protein nice and happy, you must prepare it in a salty solution. So, when the protein was deposited, some regular table salt, NaCl, came too. We can see this salt in our images as crystals in two distinctive and very beautiful patterns which you can see in the images below. Protein on the surface of my diamond. Each small pale circle is one of these spherical proteins. The first image shows a large creeping pattern, reminiscent of snowflakes or tree roots, which spreads its soft fingers across several hundred nanometres. These crystals have taken on an amorphous pattern, where the crystal structure is broken up rather than being one continuous arrangement of the atoms. The second pattern however, shown in the right image, is what a continuous NaCl crystal looks like. When large enough crystals can form without becoming amorphous they look like precise cubes of various sizes all strewn about. One of my favourite aspects about looking at very small things, is how the patterns you see often mirror those at much larger scales. Look at a fingerprint and you’ll find mountains and valleys, or the roots of a tree and you’ll see a river system. Salt (NaCl) can take on a highly ordered structure shown by the cubic crystals (left) or an amorphous pattern similar in shape to tree roots (right). The astonishing images we get from this single session are all in a day’s work for Anders. He has imaged numerous kinds of cells on all manner of interesting substrates, patterned surfaces covered in needle-like protrusions, and many kinds of man-made materials. Today, there are vials on his prep-bench which, at first glance, look much like jars of hair. However, they are not hair, in fact they are strands of carbon fibre covered in various coatings, awaiting examination. ‘What are your favourite types of samples to look at?’ I want to know. “Cell biology is fascinating,” he says. “We’ve imaged red blood cells, pancreatic cells, stem cells, and various bacterial cells in this microscope. Most often researchers are interested in cell life and death, and the HIM assists by providing high resolution images of the structure and surface topography of the cell membrane.” Recently however, Anders has been helping researchers look at polymer materials for water filtration. “These are hierarchical porous structures, meaning they’re engineered to have pore sizes that vary through the membrane. It is stunning to see the materials at low magnification with large pores, and as we zoom in and in and in, to see new pore sizes become visible at each level, like a material engineered with a fractal quality.” One of the unique things about the HIM, Anders reminds me, is that it’s not just for imaging. Since helium ions are heavy, they carry a higher momentum than electrons. “We leverage the momentum of the ions to actually modify structures too. We can create new surface properties, new devices, new technologies, on a scale that is often too small for any other fabrication technique. This is some of the most exciting work.” If you know anyone who needs some nanoscale drilling done, then the HIM is your instrument! Today’s excursion across the university campus has been thrilling. I got what I came for and I’m excited to find other projects that could benefit from the insight and beautiful images the HIM can provide. Imaging instruments have always fascinated me and I’m looking forward to witnessing how far we will be able to delve into the nanoscale world in the years to come, thanks to the fast pace of engineering and physics research. Previous article back to DISORDER Next article

OmniSci Magazine is the University of Melbourne's science magazine, written by students. Read our recent issues and view the magnificent illustrations! Cover Art: Anabelle Dewi Saraswati READ NOW Welcome to OmniSci Magazine OmniSci Magazine is a student-led science magazine and social club at UniMelb. We are a group of students passionate about science communication and a platform for students to share their creativity. Read More More from OmniSci Magazine Previous Issues Illustration by Louise Cen READ ISSUE 6 National Science Week 'SCIENCE IS EVERYWHERE' PHOTO/ART COMPETITION VIEW SUBMISSIONS

< Back to Issue 2 How to use a time machine Whilst time travel is thought to be nothing more than science fiction, the very laws of physics point to its possibility. Physicists have long sought the answer to such a phenomenon using knowledge from rockets to generating wormholes. by Sabine Elias 10 December 2021 Edited by Niesha Baker Illustrated by Quynh Anh Nguyen So you have just entered the TARDIS machine and are trying to work out how to use it to travel to the past to re-write the present and save the future? Well, look no further because you have come to right place. In this article, I will be describing how to jumpstart your time traveling vehicle and by the end, you will be proficient in navigating your way through the universe and evading time. Do be warned however, that batteries are not included and the simulation may crash at times. Now, you are probably wishing that you could travel back in time to have not clicked this article and saved yourself these two minutes of life that you will never get back. But is time travel really a possibility? We often think about the world as a state of order. Social and political constructs generally keep society running in a systematic manner. But what if I told you the entire universe came to exist from disorder? Before we get to logistics, let me introduce you to a little something known as ‘entropy’. Entropy describes the state of disorder (1). Take a closed bottle containing gas. Once you open this bottle, the gas will diffuse out into the open space with no way to retrieve it in the exact same state back inside the bottle. In essence, this gas has become ‘disordered’ and thus its entropy has increased. For years, scientists have understood that the entropy of the universe is always increasing, which means that stars, planets and galaxies are in constant motion away from each other (1). If we wanted to travel back in time, we would essentially have to reverse every single chemical reaction that has occurred from the point in time we currently stand in, to the point in time that we wish to travel to (2). This is theoretically impossible as we would be violating the laws of physics and decreasing the entropy of the universe but we still do not know if it is physically impossible. Let Brain Cox explain: Another problem with time travel would be altering events of the past. Take the Grandfather Paradox: if someone travelled back in time to kill their ancestor, then the possibility of their existence in the future would be zero (3). Thus, they would have been unable to time travel to begin with to have killed their ancestor. This issue of causality is expanded upon through the Novikov Self-Consistency Principle (4). This states that if an event causes a paradox or changes the past, the possibility of this event occurring would be impossible. However, this principle is not widely accepted by time travel enthusiasts. Now, whilst your TARDIS machine may be nothing but a prop at this point in time, it could still help provide evidence on the possibility of time travel. Take this example: you set up two duplicates of the same clock that read the same time and placed one into a rocket that blasts off into space. The rocket orbits around the Earth and then returns and is compared to the clock that remained on Earth. You would find that less time has passed on the clock that was in the rocket. Why? Because moving clocks run slower than stationary clocks. That is, as you move faster through space, you move slower through time. This is known as Time Dilation (5). An example of time dilation is the comparison of time on the International Space Station (ISS) to the time on Earth. Astronauts who have spent 6 months in the ISS have aged 0.005 seconds less than people on Earth (6). This does not seem like much because the astronauts are not traveling close to the speed of light. To see the effects of time dilation multiply, one would need to be very close to the speed of light. If you were to travel in space at 90 per cent the speed of light, whilst everyone on earth would age by 22 years you would only have aged by 9! Speed is not the only thing that affects how fast we age, gravity also affects our experience of time. A stronger gravitational field means that time travels slower in that field. For instance, your feet age slower than your head considering the slightly smaller gravitational pull on your feet compared to your head. Now take a black hole; we know that black holes have immensely strong gravitational fields where one hour near a black hole would equal approximately 100,000,000 years for a person on earth (7). So what would happen if you travelled through a black hole? No one really knows what occurs inside a black hole but we know trying to enter will likely turn you into spaghetti (8). That being said, we can only observe things that go as far as the event horizon of the black hole, so once something has entered it, we do not know what has happened. Black holes have however, been especially useful in theoretically explaining the possibility of time travel. Placing someone in a strong gravitational field or having them experience motions close to the speed of light would have them experience time slower compared to someone on Earth. This brings us to wormholes. Einstein’s theory of general relativity predicts the existence of wormholes which would theoretically permit time travel. To travel to a galaxy that is 2.5 million light years away with the fastest rocket on earth would be impossible as it would take longer than a human lifetime. This is where wormholes come to the rescue. A wormhole would provide us with a shortcut to our location of interest. Imagine folding a paper in half and poking a pen through it to represent your route of travel. You are essentially skipping the length of the paper and traveling from one end to the other. Source: The Independent. (2008). The Big Question: Is time travel possible, and is there any chance (9). You then situate one mouth of the wormhole in a spacecraft traveling close to the speed of light and the other mouth on Earth. If you then went through the mouth on Earth and travelled through to the space craft, you would be traveling back in time. This is because time would be passing much slower at the other end of the wormhole than where you entered from. However, physicists have not yet developed such advanced technology capable of this, but theoretically speaking, this is a possibility if such technology was developed in the future. Whilst you may have thought that time travel was merely based on science fiction, the laws of physics do not forbid its existence. However, here is some food for thought: “If time travel is possible, where are the tourists from the future?” Stephen Hawking Perhaps with time, we may transform this theory into reality. So for the time being, just sit back and enjoy the presence of your TARDIS machine. Perhaps you might even get lost in time from the very thought of time travel. References: 1. Wehrl, Alfred. “General Properties of Entropy.” Reviews of Modern Physics 50, no. 2 (April 1, 1978): 221–60. https://doi.org/10.1103/revmodphys.50.221. 2. BBC. “Brian Cox Explains Why Time Travels in One Direction - Wonders of the Universe - BBC Two.” YouTube, March 10, 2011. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uQSoaiubuA0. 3. Smith, Nicholas J.J. “Time Travel (Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy).” Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, November 14, 2013. https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/time-travel/#GraPar. 4. Carlini, A., V.P. Frolov, M.B. Mensky, I.D. Novikov, and H.H. Soleng. “Time machines: The principle of self-consistency as a consequence of the principle of minimal action.” International Journal of Modern Physics, no. 05 (October 1995): 557–80. https://doi.org/10.1142/s0218271895000399. 5. The Editors of Encyclopaedia Britannica. “Time Dilation | Explanation, Examples, & Twin Paradox.” In Encyclopædia Britannica, 2019. https://www.britannica.com/science/time-dilation. 6. Dickerson, Kelly. “Here’s Why Astronauts Age Slower than the Rest of Us Here on Earth.” Business Insider Australia, August 20, 2015. https://www.businessinsider.com.au/do-astronauts-age-slower-than-people-on-earth-2015-8. 7. Gharat, Sarvesh Vikas. “Relativity and Time Dilation.” International Journal for Research in Applied Science and Engineering Technology 7, no. 11 (November 30, 2019): 650–51. https://doi.org/10.22214/ijraset.2019.11103. 8. "Death by spaghettification: Scientists record last moments of star devoured by black hole." NewsRx Health & Science, November 1, 2020, 236. Gale Academic OneFile. https://link.gale.com/apps/doc/A639405517/AONE?u=unimelb&sid=bookmark-AONE&xid=6812ee05. 9. “The Big Question: Is Time Travel Possible, and Is There Any Chance.” The Independent, February 8, 2008. https://www.independent.co.uk/news/science/big-question-time-travel-possible-and-there-any-chance-it-will-ever-take-place-779761.html. Previous article back to DISORDER Next article

< Back to Issue 2 Making sense of the senses: The 2021 Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine What do spicy food, menthol lozenges and walking around blindfolded have in common? They all activate protein receptors discovered by Professors David Julius and Ardem Patapoutian, the winners of the 2021 Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine. by Dominika Pasztetnik 10 December 2021 Edited by Breana Galea & Juulke Castelijn Illustrated by Casey Boswell Stimuli are changes to our environment, such as heat, cold and touch, that we recognise through our senses. We are all constantly bombarded with thousands of these stimuli from our surroundings. Despite this disorder, we are somehow able to perceive and make sense of the world. The protein receptors discovered by Professors Julius and Patapoutian make this possible. Located at the surface of the nerve cell, these receptors convert an external stimulus to an electrical signal. This signal then travels along nerve cells to the brain, allowing us to sense the stimulus. Based in California, Julius and Patapoutian are scientists in the fields of neuroscience and molecular biology. The main interest of their work has been identifying and understanding the protein receptors involved in detecting stimuli. For Julius, his major focus has been to identify the receptors involved in the sensation of pain (1). For Patapoutian, it has been to identify the protein receptors involved in detecting mechanical stimuli, such as touch (2). For their past 25 years of research, Julius and Patapoutian were awarded the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine in October 2021. The Nobel Prize was founded by Alfred Nobel, a Swedish scientist also famous for inventing dynamite. Prior to his death in 1896, Nobel allocated most of his money to the first Nobel Prizes. Since 1901, the Nobel Prize has been annually bestowed on those who, in Nobel’s words, have “conferred the greatest benefit to mankind” in different fields (3). Notable past laureates of the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine include Sir Alexander Fleming, Sir Ernst Chain and the Australian Howard Florey. They were awarded in 1945 for their discovery of the antibiotic penicillin (4). Sir Hans Krebs received the Nobel Prize in 1953 for his discovery of the citric acid cycle (5). Also known as the Krebs cycle, it is a series of reactions used to produce energy in our cells. TRPV1: spice it up It’s a rather chilly morning. You eye the packet of Shin Ramyun that’s been sitting in your pantry for weeks. Without a second thought, you prepare the noodles, adding all the soup powder. After a few mouthfuls, your eyes start streaming and your face matches the scarlet red of the now-empty packaging. The culprit is capsaicin, a substance in the chilli flakes added to the soup powder. It binds to a protein receptor embedded at the surface of the nerve cells in your mouth. Julius discovered this receptor in 1997, and called it TRPV1, which stands for transient receptor potential vanilloid type 1 (6). TRPV1 is a channel with a gate at either end that is usually closed (Figure 1, blue) (7). Capsaicin opens these gates, allowing ions, such as calcium, to move through TRPV1 and into the nerve cell (Figure 1, red). The nerve cell then signals to the brain, causing you to feel the searing heat in your mouth. TRPV1 is also found in your skin and can be activated by temperatures above 40°C, such as when you accidentally touch the kettle full of boiling water for your noodles (8). Figure 1. TRPV1 at the surface of a nerve cell. In the absence of capsaicin or at cool temperatures, TRPV1 is closed (blue). In the presence of capsaicin or at higher temperatures, TRPV1 opens, allowing ions to flow into the nerve cell (red). TRPM8: too cool for school On your way to uni, you notice your throat’s a bit sore from going overboard with karaoke the night before, so you pop a lozenge into your mouth. The soothing, cool sensation is thanks to menthol. It is a compound that binds to TRPM8, which stands for transient receptor potential melastatin 8. It is another receptor found on the nerve cells in your tongue, as well as on your skin (9). TRPM8 was separately discovered in 2002 by both Julius and Patapoutian (10). Like TRPV1, TRPM8 is a protein channel that is usually closed. In response to menthol or cool temperatures from 26 down to 8°C, TRPM8 opens and allows ions to enter the nerve cell, which then signals the cold sensation to your brain (11). PIEZO: peer pressure During your lunch break at uni, you and your mates decide to play blindfolded tag. Because, as we all know, that's what uni students do in their free time. In the first round, you have the misfortune of being chosen as ‘it’. Blindfolded, you walk around with your hands in front of you, trying to find your mates. Despite not being able to see anything, you can still walk and wave your arms and roughly know where your arms and legs are in space. This is due to a sense called proprioception. You lunge forward and nearly grab someone, only to feel their jacket brush your fingers. Both proprioception and the detection of light touch, such as of the jacket brushing your fingers, are made possible by another class of protein receptors called PIEZO2. Discovered by Patapoutian in 2010, its name comes from piesi, the Greek word for pressure (12). Like TRPV1 and TRPM8, PIEZO2 is an ion channel at the nerve cell surface. However, the structure of PIEZO2 is nothing like that of TRPV1 and TRPM8. PIEZO2 has three protruding blades, which form a dent, called a nano-bowl, in the outer surface of the cell (13). When the outside of the cell is prodded, the blades straighten and the nano-bowl flattens. This allows the channel in the centre of the PIEZO2 to open, so ions can flow into the nerve cell (Figure 2). The nerve cell then sends an electrical impulse to the brain, letting you know you’re failing at blindfolded tag. Figure 2. PIEZO at the surface of a nerve cell. When force is applied to the surface of the nerve cell, the PIEZO channel opens, allowing ions to move into the cell. Apart from being essential for playing blindfolded tag, PIEZO2 is also important in various other aspects of the human body’s functioning we often take for granted. For example, PIEZO2 prevents you from breathing in too much air (14). It is also present on the cells lining your digestive tract. PIEZO2 detects pressure exerted onto these cells by food, causing the cells to release hormones that help with digestion (15). Furthermore, PIEZO2 helps monitor the fullness of your bladder, saving you from embarrassment (16). If there is a PIEZO2, what about PIEZO1? Although it has a similar structure to PIEZO2, PIEZO1’s role is quite different. PIEZO1 handles the background maintenance required to keep your body healthy. This includes bone formation (17) and preventing your red blood cells from bursting (18). People with a particular mutated form of PIEZO1 have a reduced risk of getting malaria (19). Patapoutian found that this mutation causes red blood cells to shrivel, preventing the malaria parasite from infecting them. Many people living in malaria-affected areas, such as Africa, have this mutation. Therefore, knowledge regarding these receptors is improving our understanding of related diseases. Drug development Researchers are currently using information about the receptors discovered by Julius and Patapoutian to develop new drugs to treat various conditions. Knowing the identities and structures of these receptors is helping researchers design compounds that bind to them, either blocking or activating them. In this way, Julius and Patapoutian’s work is helping provide a “benefit to mankind”. For example, during a migraine, the TRPV1 channel opens more frequently in the nerve cells of the meninges, the envelope surrounding the brain (20). These nerve cells contain more TRPV1 at their surfaces. This causes the nerve cells to send more electrical signals to the brain and so increases the sensation of pain. Using a drug to block the TRPV1 receptor could reduce the number of these electrical impulses and lessen the pain associated with migraines. It’s been a busy day activating all these receptors, which, as it turns out, are part of your daily life as a uni student. So next time you eat chilli flakes, have a menthol lozenge or play blindfolded tag, you will know which tiny sensors to hold responsible for your pleasant — or unpleasant — experiences. Further reading Press release: The Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine 2021 The Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine 2021 - Advanced Information References: University of California San Francisco. “Biography of David Julius.” UCSF. Accessed November 10, 2021. https://www.ucsf.edu/news/2021/09/421486/biography-david-julius. Nobel Prize Outreach AB 2021. “Press release: The Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine 2021.” The Nobel Prize. Accessed November 10, 2021. https://www.nobelprize.org/prizes/medicine/2021/press-release/. Nobel Prize Outreach AB 2021. "Alfred Nobel’s will." The Nobel Prize. Accessed November 10, 2021. https://www.nobelprize.org/alfred-nobel/alfred-nobels-will/. Nobel Prize Outreach AB 2021. “The Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine 1945.” The Nobel Prize. Accessed November 10, 2021. https://www.nobelprize.org/prizes/medicine/1945/summary/ Nobel Prize Outreach AB 2021. “The Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine 1953.” The Nobel Prize. Accessed November 10, 2021. https://www.nobelprize.org/prizes/medicine/1953/summary/ Ernfors, Patrik, Abdel El Manira, and Per Svenningsson. "Advanced information." The Nobel Prize. Accessed November 10, 2021. https://www.nobelprize.org/prizes/medicine/2021/advanced-information/. Liao, M., E. Cao, D. Julius, and Y. Cheng. "Structure of the Trpv1 Ion Channel Determined by Electron Cryo-Microscopy." Nature 504, no. 7478 (Dec 5 2013): 107-12. doi: 10.1038/nature12822. Ernfors et al., “Advanced information.” McKemy, D. D. "Trpm8: The Cold and Menthol Receptor." In Trp Ion Channel Function in Sensory Transduction and Cellular Signaling Cascades, edited by W. B. Liedtke and S. Heller. Frontiers in Neuroscience. Boca Raton (FL), 2007. Ernfors et al., “Advanced information.” McKemy, Trp Ion Channel Function in Sensory Transduction and Cellular Signaling Cascades. Coste, B., J. Mathur, M. Schmidt, T. J. Earley, S. Ranade, M. J. Petrus, A. E. Dubin, and A. Patapoutian. "Piezo1 and Piezo2 Are Essential Components of Distinct Mechanically Activated Cation Channels." Science 330, no. 6000 (Oct 1 2010): 55-60. doi: 10.1126/science.1193270. Jiang, Y., X. Yang, J. Jiang, and B. Xiao. "Structural Designs and Mechanogating Mechanisms of the Mechanosensitive Piezo Channels." Trends in Biochemical Sciences 46, no. 6 (Jun 2021): 472-88. doi: 10.1016/j.tibs.2021.01.008. Nonomura, K., S. H. Woo, R. B. Chang, A. Gillich, Z. Qiu, A. G. Francisco, S. S. Ranade, S. D. Liberles, and A. Patapoutian. "Piezo2 Senses Airway Stretch and Mediates Lung Inflation-Induced Apnoea." Nature 541, no. 7636 (Jan 12 2017): 176-81. doi: 10.1038/nature20793. Alcaino, C., K. R. Knutson, A. J. Treichel, G. Yildiz, P. R. Strege, D. R. Linden, J. H. Li, et al. "A Population of Gut Epithelial Enterochromaffin Cells Is Mechanosensitive and Requires Piezo2 to Convert Force into Serotonin Release." Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the United States of America 115, no. 32 (Aug 7 2018): E7632-E41. doi: 10.1073/pnas.1804938115. Marshall, K. L., D. Saade, N. Ghitani, A. M. Coombs, M. Szczot, J. Keller, T. Ogata, et al. "Piezo2 in Sensory Neurons and Urothelial Cells Coordinates Urination." Nature 588, no. 7837 (Dec 2020): 290-95. doi: 10.1038/s41586-020-2830-7. Li, X., L. Han, I. Nookaew, E. Mannen, M. J. Silva, M. Almeida, and J. Xiong. "Stimulation of Piezo1 by Mechanical Signals Promotes Bone Anabolism." Elife 8 (Oct 7 2019). doi: 10.7554/eLife.49631. Cahalan, S. M., V. Lukacs, S. S. Ranade, S. Chien, M. Bandell, and A. Patapoutian. "Piezo1 Links Mechanical Forces to Red Blood Cell Volume." Elife 4 (May 22 2015). doi: 10.7554/eLife.07370. Ma, S., S. Cahalan, G. LaMonte, N. D. Grubaugh, W. Zeng, S. E. Murthy, E. Paytas, et al. "Common Piezo1 Allele in African Populations Causes Rbc Dehydration and Attenuates Plasmodium Infection." Cell 173, no. 2 (Apr 5 2018): 443-55 e12. doi: 10.1016/j.cell.2018.02.047. Dux, M., J. Rosta, and K. Messlinger. "Trp Channels in the Focus of Trigeminal Nociceptor Sensitization Contributing to Primary Headaches." International Journal of Molecular Sciences 21, no. 1 (Jan 4 2020). doi: 10.3390/ijms21010342. Previous article back to DISORDER Next article

< Back to Issue 7 Pointing the Way: A Triangular View of the World by Ingrid Sefton 22 October 2024 edited by Hendrick Lin illustrated by Aisyah Mohammad Sulhanuddin You, my friend, are living in a world created by triangles. Since the dawn of time, this humble three-sided polygon has quietly shaped the evolution of human civilisation. As you gaze around, you can likely spot a triangle or two tucked within your surroundings. This may be of no surprise to you. Externally, the triangle governs the material construction of our world, underpinning the foundations of countless engineering and architectural designs. Yet these more obvious physical constructions are just one contribution of this pointy, three-sided shape to modern society. Indeed, it is where the role of the triangle remains invisible that it harnesses the most power. Triangles have played an integral role in sailing and modern navigation systems, having enabled us to explore all corners of the Earth. Beyond this, let us not forget the massive contributions this shape has made to the development of 3D modelling, used everywhere from graphic design and animation to CGI. All thanks to the simple, unassuming triangle. The physical, the navigational and the digital. Three key sides of the triangle’s influence in shaping the modern world. The Physical The triangle's importance in the physical world stems from its inner strength. Unbeknownst to many, it is the strongest two-dimensional shape that exists, with its power amplified in three-dimensional polyhedrons derived from triangles. How can this unique strength be explained? Consider applying force to one corner, or apex, of a triangle. This force is distributed down either side of the triangle and as these sides are compressed, the base is stretched outwards. Weight can therefore be evenly dispersed across the shape, preventing it from bending and breaking (Saint Louis Science Center, 2020). It is for good reason that the triangular shape underpins many fundamental principles of architecture and design. Perhaps the most iconic of the structures that utilise this shape are the Pyramids of Giza, one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. Constructed in the early 25th Century BCE, they housed the tombs of ancient Egyptian pharaohs and are the last remaining Wonder that exists today. The tallest of the Pyramids, known as the Great Pyramid, originally soared as high as 147 metres above the ground, though today erosion has reduced it to 138 metres (Encylopedia Britannica, 2024a). This architectural feat was monumental for its time, and to this day, how exactly the Pyramids were constructed remains a hotly contested debate amongst archeologists and engineers. One proposition is that large ramps were used in conjunction with a complex system of ropes, sledges and levers to haul stone blocks up (Handwerk, 2023). Whatever the method of construction may have been, these ancient wonders have stood the test of time for over 4500 years - a remnant of one of humanity's first advanced civilisations that exemplifies the scale, strength and resilience of construction made possible by triangles. Triangles also play a crucial role in the construction of seemingly dissimilar shapes. This is highlighted in the case of geodesic structures - spheres constructed from a network of triangles approximating a rounded shape, like a soccer ball. First developed in the 20th Century by architect Richard Buckminster Fuller, these domes are lightweight and able to distribute stress across large, arching structures (Encylopedia Britannica, 2024b). Since Fuller’s earliest constructions, these domes have been widely utilised in the construction of stadiums, planetariums and even "glamping" accommodations. One notable example is the Eden Project - the world's largest biodome botanical garden in the United Kingdom, housing thousands of plant species over 5.5 acres of land (Eden Project, 2024). The interconnectedness of the triangles allows for maximum sunlight exposure across wide spaces, creating an ideal environment for plant photosynthesis and cultivation. Intriguingly, Fuller's use of triangles in this innovative manner led to a breakthrough in the far-away field of synthetic chemistry. Scientists Robert Curl, Harold Kroto and Richard Smalley discovered the nanomaterial Buckminsterfullerene, or “the Buckyball”, after the scientists realised the structure's similarity to Fuller's geodesic spheres (The Stanford Libraries, 2024). This led to the discovery of a new class of materials known as fullerenes. The scientists were subsequently awarded the 1996 Nobel Prize in Chemistry for elucidating this molecule’s structure (The Stanford Libraries, 2024). Balancing power with versatility, triangles form the crux of our built environments at both an atomic and architectural level. The Navigational Remember those sine and cosine formulas your maths teacher insisted had important real world applications? Turns out they weren’t kidding. Triangulation is the process of finding an unknown location of an object by forming a triangle between this object and two other reference points. Sine, cosine and tangent, the main trigonometric ratios, are used to relate the sides and angles formed within a right triangle and hence, determine the position of an unknown point. For centuries, humans have turned to triangles as a means to find their ways. Sailors, in particular, have long used landmarks and celestial objects like the stars to orient themselves at sea. By observing the angle between known locations (or stars) and using basic trigonometry, navigators could calculate distances and determine their precise location. Moving to a more global scale of navigation becomes a bit more complicated, as the Earth is a sphere and not a flat surface (although some may beg to differ…). A more advanced form of triangulation known as trilateration underpins the Global Positioning System (GPS) in order to determine three-dimensional coordinates of a receiver. Instead of angles, GPS utilises the time taken for radio signals sent from satellites to reach a receiving device on Earth. A connected system of navigation satellites circles the Earth, each sending out signals with the location and time it was sent by that satellite. By measuring the delay between the time of signal reception and the broadcast time, the distance from the receiver to each satellite can be computed (Federal Aviation Administration, 2024). Once distances to at least three satellites are known, the receiving device can determine its own three-dimensional position, employing similar techniques to triangulation. GPS data is not only used to guide your Google Map directions. Analysing the positions of satellite stations and their movements is a crucial tool for monitoring volcanic and seismic activity (Murray & Svarc, 2017). Recent breakthroughs have even suggested that there may be a future for utilising the GPS to detect earthquakes before they happen (Rao, 2023). From the seas to the skies, triangles allow us to push the boundaries of exploration while always guiding us home to safety. The Digital What does connect-the-dots have to do with triangles or 3D modelling? A connect-the-dots drawing begins with nothing but some labelled dots. Yet as each dot is joined by a straight line, a complex and curved picture emerges. The more dots you use, the smoother the picture looks. Consider now trying to design a three-dimensional surface. Just as you might use dots to approximate a curve, triangles serve as building blocks for constructing complex surfaces. By taking enough triangles and joining them at their edges, we too can approximate intricate and multidimensional structures. In 3D modelling, objects are represented as meshes - models consisting of vertices (points in 3D space) connected by edges to form polygons and thus, the surface of an object (Stanton, 2023). To define a flat surface oriented in a plane, a minimum of three distinct points are needed. Triangles are the simplest shape for constructing these planes as they are coplanar, meaning any three points in space will always form a flat surface (Licata & Licata, 2015). This makes them perfect for modelling complex 3D shapes out of interconnected triangles. Animation, gaming, graphic design and computer generated imagery (CGI) in movies are just some of the many varied applications that utilise these mesh modelling techniques to create intricate 3D models, with curved and highly detailed surfaces. Additionally, there exist efficient computer algorithms that are optimised to dissect objects into hundreds of thousands of flat triangles. A complex, digital representation of any object can therefore be easily portrayed as a simple collection of points and triangles. Combined with their simple geometric properties, triangles can then be processed quickly by modern Graphics Processing Units (GPUs), optimising their performance in real-time applications. Add in lighting, shading and smooth deformation, and you will find yourself with an intricate, three-dimensional model. Pointing the Way Forward For too long, the triangle has been overshadowed by its more popular cousin, the square. Yet, what is a square? Two triangles put together. The simplicity of this three-sided shape allows it to integrate within our society, with its contributions often invisible to the naked eye. From the physical, to the navigational and the digital, modern human society is built on the triangle. Maybe that trigonometry class wasn’t so pointless after all. References Eden Project (2024). Eden Project's Mission . https://www.edenproject.com/mission/origins Encylopedia Britannica (2024a). Great Pyramid of Giza . https://www.britannica.com/place/Great-Pyramid-of-Giza Encylopedia Britannica (2024b). Geodesic Dome. https://www.britannica.com/technology/geodesic-dome Federal Aviation Administration (2024). Satellite Navigation - GPS - How It Works . United States Department of Transportation. https://www.faa.gov/about/office_org/headquarters_offices/ato/service_units/techops/navservices/gnss/gps/howitworks Handwerk, B. (2023). The Pyramids at Giza were built to endure an eternity—but how? National Geographic. https://www.nationalgeographic.com/history/article/giza-pyramids Licata, J., & Licata, A. (2015). From triangles to computer graphics . ABC Science. https://www.abc.net.au/science/articles/2015/06/10/4251713.htm Murray, J. R., & Svarc, J. (2017). Global Positioning System Data Collection, Processing, and Analysis Conducted by the U.S. Geological Survey Earthquake Hazards Program. Seismological Research Letters , 88 (3), 916-925. https://doi.org/10.1785/0220160204 Rao, R. (2023). GPS satellites may be able to detect earthquakes before they happen . Space. https://www.space.com/earthquake-prediction-gps-satellite-data Saint Louis Science Center (2020). The Secret Strength of Triangles . https://www.slsc.org/the-secret-strength-of-triangles/ Stanton, A. (2023). Exploring the World of 3D Modeling: Solid vs. Mesh Modeling . Cadmore. https://cadmore.com/blog/solid-vs-mesh-modeling-differences The Stanford Libraries (2024). What is a geodesic dome? Stanford University. https://exhibits.stanford.edu/bucky/feature/what-is-a-geodesic-dome Previous article Next article apex back to

Issue 7: Apex 22 October 2024 This issue surveys our world from above. So come along, and revel in the expansive view - have a read below! Editorial Peaks and Perspectives: A Word from the Editors-in-Chief by the Editors-in-Chief A word from our Editors-in-Chief. Corals A Coral’s Story: From thriving reef to desolation by Nicola Zuzek-Mayer Nicola sheds light on the devastating future faced by our coral reefs, with the effects of anthropogenic climate change far from having reached its peak. Humans vs Pathogens Staying at the Top of Our Game: the Evolutionary Arms Race by Aizere Malibek As nations vie for military supremacy, Aizere covers a microscopic competition between humans and the microbes evolving strategies against our defences. Seeing Space Interstellar Overdrive: Secrets of our Distant Universe by Sarah Ibrahimi Embark on an epic journey as Sarah explores the cosmic mysterious being revealed by NASA's James Webb Space Teloscope. Fossil Markets Fossil Markets: Under the Gavel, Under Scrutiny by Jesse Allen Diving into the wild world of fossil auctions, Jesse prompts us to ask: who is the real apex predator, the T-rex or hedge-fund billionaires? Cancer Treatments Tip of the Iceberg: An Overview of Cancer Treatment Breakthroughs by Arwen Nguyen-Ngo Icebreakers. Follow Arwen as she recounts the countless stories of the giants before us, who carved a path for our cancer research today. Triangles Pointing the Way: A Triangular View of the World by Ingrid Sefton Guiding us through land, seas and screens, Ingrid explores this humble 3-sided shape as a vital tool of modern society and its many fascinating uses. Anti-ageing Science Timeless Titans: Billionaires defying death by Holly McNaughton From billionaire-backed pills to young blood transfusion, Holly traverses the futuristic world of anti-ageing and asks: what happens when death is no longer inevitable? Brain-computer Implants Neuralink: Mind Over Matter? by Kara Miwa-Dale Would the ability to control a computer with your mind bolster possibilities or bring harm? Kara visualises a possible future under the Neuralink implant. Fish Morphology Designing the perfect fish by Andy Shin With a splash of creativity, Andy concocts the ultimate 'Frankenfish' by investigating the traits that allow fish to flourish in their aquatic environments. Commercial Aviation Soaring Heights: An Ode to the Airliner by Aisyah Mohammad Sulhanuddin Settle in and take a round trip with Aisyah through the evolution of commercial aviation, from the secrets of aircraft cuisine to the mechanics of staying afloat.

< Back to Issue 4 Talking to Yourself: The Biology of Hallucinations by Lily McCann 1 July 2023 Edited by Arwen Nguyen-Ngo and Yasmin Potts Illustrated by Zhuominna Ma What is consciousness? No small question. To this day it hasn’t been entirely satisfied. Consider a conversation: There are voices from the outside, stimuli that talk to all the sensory receptors that we have. They pass on messages to our fingertips that we are touching something cold; they tell our eyes that we are seeing certain wavelengths of light; and they tell the cochlea of our ears what sounds we are hearing. The sensory circuits of our bodies bring these words from outside and turn them inward, presenting them to the centre of our consciousness: Here - this is what we are experiencing. This is what we are taking from the world outside. But already, at the base of this consciousness, an idea of the world has been established. The central experience of our mind is built upon prediction: we are constantly conjuring up an estimate of how the outside world will be. The ‘Predictive Processing’ model of consciousness states that it is the conversation between this predictive perception of the world and the feedback from our sensory experience that defines what it is to feel consciousness (1). In 1971, Nature published the conclusions of a study titled, ‘Preliminary Observations on Tickling Oneself’ (2). In this experiment, a device was used to compare the experience of being tickled by an experimenter to the experience of tickling oneself, and both were compared to the intermediate of passively following the experimenter’s arm as they tickled the participant. The study concluded that the action of tickling oneself produced no effect as the planned action of tickling cancelled out the sensation of being tickled; the lack of an action in the case of the experimenter tickling the subject’s hand, allowed for a full ‘tickle’ sensation. Interestingly, the third process of passively following the tickling action was rated at a level in between these two responses. This showed that it was not the action of tickling alone that cancelled out the sensation of the stimulus as tickling, but that a knowledge of the tickle, a prediction of it, were enough to reduce the effect. This experiment reflects the idea that it is not just our planned actions and our sensory perception that drive consciousness, but that it is prediction that has a core place in driving experience. For centuries, hallucinations have been recognised as distortions of our sense of being conscious in the world. In 1838, Esquirol wrote in his ‘Mental Maladies: A Treatise On Insanity’ that the experience of a hallucination is “a thorough conviction of the perception of a sensation, when no external object, suited to excite this sensation, has impressed the senses.” (3) Anything that distorts our ‘perception’ or ‘sensation’ can therefore give rise to a hallucination. This can occur in the context of infection, psychosis, delirium, use of certain drugs - and the aptly named ‘exploding head syndrome’. Contrary to popular opinion, hallucinations are not a feature of psychotic disorders alone. In fact, analysis has shown that no single aspect of schizophrenia-related hallucinations is specific to this disease (4). In 2000, the idea of the ‘Tickling’ study was elaborated with respect to hallucinations in an investigation comparing the experience of self-produced and externally implemented stimuli for those who both did and did not suffer from hallucinations. It was shown in this study that for participants with hallucinatory disorders, there was a breakdown in the ability to differentiate between stimuli produced externally and internally (5). This study is in line with a certain theory of hallucination purported by Frith, who suggests in his discussion of positive symptoms of schizophrenia that the foundation of hallucination is a “fault in the system which internally monitors and compares intentions and actions” (6). There is another interesting theory that describes hallucinations as memories released from suppression. The authors suggest that the hallucination itself is a cacophony of memory signals set loose, where normally they are shut out of our conscious mind. One study described auditory hallucinations in those with hearing loss as an “uninhibition syndrome”. They argued that in the cases studied, a lack of sensory auditory input seemed to “uninhibit neuronal groups storing auditory memory” (7). The brain is an incredibly complex organ and theories regarding consciousness and hallucinations abound. The question of greatest practical importance is what part of the process of hallucinations can we understand and therefore, what can be targeted when we are called to treat this system in a medical setting. Recent investigations have linked various molecules, receptors and genes to hallucinatory disorders or states, whilst imaging studies demonstrate networks and regions of the brain activated during hallucinations. Investigation of certain receptor-modulating drugs has revealed the place of certain molecules in delusion and sensation; and the association of certain genes to hallucination-prone phenotypes has established a genetic cause for susceptibilities to hallucination. This research yields molecular and genetic targets for therapies that can help reduce the burden of hallucinations on an individual. It is a remarkable faculty of our minds, the ability to create a world - or aspects of the world - for ourselves and convince our own consciousness that it is real. Hallucinations reveal the capacity of the human brain for imagination; they show that all we experience is indeed creative, merely restricted by what we see as truth. But the grounding fact of knowing what is real is essential to functioning in society. Losing the ability to check our own creative experience of consciousness is exceedingly frightening and disempowering. Anything that helps us to maintain the right balance of conversation between the experiences we create and those we feel allow us to maintain a sense of self in the world. Elucidating the biology behind these conversations and the effects of hallucination itself can bring us closer to a definition of consciousness. References Hohwy J, Seth A. Predictive processing as a systematic basis for identifying the neural correlates of consciousness. Philosophy and the Mind Sciences. 2020;1(2). 3. https://doi.org/10.33735/phimisci.2020.II.64 Weiskrantz L, Elliot J, Darlington C. Preliminary observations on tickling oneself. Nature. 1971 Apr 30. 230: 598–599 https://doi.org/10.1038/230598a0 Esquirol J. Mental maladies: A treatise on insanity. France: Wentworth Press; 2016 Waters F, Fernyhough C. Hallucinations: A systematic review of points of similarity and difference across diagnostic classes. National Library of Medicine. 2016 Nov 21. doi: 10.1093/schbul/sbw132 Blakemore S.J, Smith J, Steel R, Johnstone E.C. The perception of self-produced sensory stimuli in patients with auditory hallucinations and passivity experiences: Evidence for a breakdown in self-monitoring. Psychological Medicine. 2000 Oct 17. 30(5): 1131-9. https://doi.org/10.1017/S0033291799002676 Frith C. The positive and negative symptoms of schizophrenia reflect impairments in the perception and initiation of action. Psychological Medicine. 1987 Aug. 17(3): 631-648. Doi: 10.1017/s0033291700025873 Goycoolea, M., Mena, I. and Neubauer, S. (2006) ‘Spontaneous musical auditory perceptions in patients who develop abrupt bilateral sensorineural hearing loss. an uninhibition syndrome?’, Acta Oto-Laryngologica, 126(4), pp. 368–374. doi:10.1080/00016480500416942. Previous article Next article back to MIRAGE

< Back to Issue 8 Why Are We So Fascinated by Space? An Exploration of Human’s Fascination with Outer Space by Emily Cahill 3 June 2025 Edited by Weilena Liu Illustrated by Saraf Ishmam I have always been enamoured by the stars. Sitting on the beach after sunset, staring up at the sky, has always given me this hopeful, grateful feeling - for what I have, and for what’s to come. It has made me wonder, why do I feel this way? Why do I feel hope instead of fear, staring into the great darkness? Is it pure curiosity or is it curated by society? Culture encompasses the ideas, customs, and manifestations that we hold regarding space. Films have been the leading presentation of outer space for many entertainment industries around the world and make visuals of space accessible for many. Many commercials, whether for global or local companies, feature advertising set in or about outer space, filling magazines, billboards and television ad breaks. From astronomy to geology to botany, many scientific fields are involved in outer space research and centre around the universe to seek answers. Culture, the entertainment industry, commercialization, and science could all be contributing factors to this fascination, and may have just as great an impact as innate curiosity. Culture Throughout time, there has been a leap from admiration to exploration of outer space. Myths and folktales about outer space and the stars have existed for centuries. The constellations were defined by humans based on patterns associated with these myths and folktales (1). Perhaps space is something that has connected all humans regardless of where and when because it has always existed for us to admire. From folktales to automated rocket ships, the human desire to explore launched our voyages in space. From designing caravans to traverse the countryside, to building boats to cross the sea, to assembling submarines to travel to the bottom of the ocean, humans have always created whatever they need to explore the unknown. The ‘father of modern rocketry’ Konstantin Tsiolkovsky said, “The Earth is the cradle of humanity, but one cannot live in a cradle forever” (2). These inspiring words align with many scientists and space exploration companies like NASA, emphasizing the importance of space travel to satisfy curiosity. There are also underlying cultural reasons that push space exploration. The 1961 Apollo space mission was presented as an opportunity to discover the unknown, but in fact was for another reason. Apollo Astronaut Frank Borman said, “Everyone forgets that the Apollo programme wasn’t a voyage of exploration or scientific discovery, it was a battle in the Cold War, and we were Cold War warriors. I joined to help fight a battle in the Cold War and we’d won” ( Hollingham , 2023). Pop culture also has a large influence on how we see outer space. Katy Perry and Gayle King went to space just a few months ago, heralding female astronauts, but at the same time, reinforcing the growing idea of space tourism. Entertainment Perhaps the most common and tangible depiction of outer space - other than gazing at the sky itself - is in films. Star Wars was and continues to be a cultural phenomenon, even garnering the distinction of a global holiday on the 4th of May. The films Gravity (2013), Interstellar (2014), and The Martian (2015) centre around heroes in unbelievably intense scenarios trying to solve problems to better the human race. The success of these films may be due to the strength of the actors and writing alone, but is more likely due to the dueling feelings of fear and hope that accompany the setting of outer space. The deep sea and outer space are both settings where films have thrived, potentially because of the human instinct for curiosity, and in turn, the impulse to root for and care about the characters. Given the influence of entertainment on culture, if these movies depicted space as a scary, dangerous, and outlandish environment, we might not feel as excited or positive about space. Both our conceptions of the unknown and the influence of the entertainment industry shape our perceptions of outer space. Interstellar is praised by critics for its ability to let us see ourselves as the protagonist - solving impossible puzzles and searching for the answers to life - while reflecting the emotionally beautiful and terrifying landscape of human existence in outer space (4). Commercialization For decades, advertisements have featured outer space as a setting or main theme for the storyline. Some ads are even filmed in space. In 2001, Pizza Hut sent an astronaut in a rocketship with a camera and a pizza, becoming the first commercial actually shot in space (5). Olay and Girls Who Code collaborated in a 2020 Super Bowl commercial with Katy Kouric, Taraji P. Henson, Busy Phillps, and Lilly Singh with the tagline “make space for women” (6). Madonna Badger - the COO of the advertising agency that ran the Olay commercial - said that space gives us somewhere to escape to in the midst of tough times: “W e’re living in pretty anxious times. When things on Earth become so stressful, there’s something about space that gives us permission to dream” (5). The CCO of Walmart, Jane Whiteside echoed Badger, saying, “It’s a really strange time to be an earthling right now. There’s this interesting confluence of extreme anxiety and a sense of optimism that somehow, we’re going to figure things out.” He said, “Space is the epitome of that. It’s unbridled optimism” (5). The 2020 Super Bowl Walmart commercial centered around a Walmart delivery person dropping off groceries to aliens on another planet. Outer space is on our televisions and devices as the setting for some of the biggest advertisements, for the biggest companies, suggesting a sense of importance and grandeur. Science The hunt to answer the questions “Where do we come from?”, “Are we alone in the universe?”, and “What is out there?” is another factor that may drive our fascination with space. Not only do we enjoy admiring it, but we also want to gain something from it. Scientists say that these questions can potentially be answered, and fields like paleontology, geology, botany, and chemistry work together to answer them. One of the current driving forces of this research is the search for another planet that can support human life if Earth becomes uninhabitable (7). Climatologists are able to learn more about Earth’s climate from the climate of other planets and gain natural resources that benefit our planet. Mars’ climate has undergone drastic changes, including the presence of water and the loss of atmospheric gases - changes we can learn from using paleontology and geology to discover how organisms on Mars may have adapted (7). Whether launching into space or stargazing, humans continue to look up into the sky - whether for a defined reason or not, it will continue to remain a mystery. References 1. National Sanitation Foundation. (2012). What are Constellations? National Radio Observatory. https://public.nrao.edu/ask/what-are-constellations/ 2. NASA. (2015). The Human Desire for Exploration Leads to Discovery. https://www.nasa.gov/history/the-human-desire-for-exploration-leads-to-discovery/ 3. Hollingham R. Apollo: How Moon missions changed the modern world. BBC. 2023 May. https://www.bbc.com/future/article/20230516-apollo-how-moon-missions-changed-the-modern-world 4. Scott A.O. Off to the Stars, With Grief, Dread and Regret. New York Times. 2014 Nov. https://www.nytimes.com/2014/11/05/movies/interstellar-christopher-nolans-search-for-a-new-planet.html 5. Zelaya I. Why Outer Space Is a Go-To Theme for Super Bowl 2020 Ads. Adweek (Super Bowl Commercials). 2020 Jan. https://www.adweek.com/brand-marketing/why-outer-space-is-a-go-to-theme-for-super-bowl-2020-ads/ 6. Spacevertising: The Super Bowl And The 15 Best Outer-Space Ads You Need To See Right Now Orbital Today (Features). 2024 Feb. https://orbitaltoday.com/2024/02/14/spacevertising-super-bowl-and-15-best-outer-space-commercials-you-need-to-see-right-now/ 7. Horneck, G. (2008). Astrobiological Aspects of Mars and Human Presence: Pros and Cons. Hippokratia Quarterly Medical Journal, 1, 49-52. https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC2577400/ Previous article Next article Enigma back to

< Back to Issue 8 Thinking Outside the Body: The Consciousness of Slime Moulds by Jessica Walton 3 June 2025 Edited by Han Chong Illustrated by Ashlee Yeo Imagine yourself as an urban planner for Tokyo’s public transport system in 1927. Imagine mapping out the most efficient paths through dense urban sprawl, around obstructing rivers and mountains. And imagine meticulously designing the most efficient possible model, after years of study and expertise… only to find your design prowess, 83 years later, matched by a slime mould: a creature with no eyes, no head nor limbs, nor nervous system. Of course, this is anachronistic. For one, the Tokyo railroad system developed over time, not all at once. But it was designed to meet the needs of the city and maximise efficiency. Yet in 2010, when researchers exposed the slime mould Physarum polycephalum to a plate mimicking Tokyo city (with population density represented by oat flakes) it almost exactly mimicked the Tokyo railroad system (1). This became one of the most iconic slime mould experiments, ushering in a flood of research about biological urban design asking the question: Could a slime mould, or other similar organisms, map out human cities for us? But a slime mould doesn’t know what cities are. They’re single-celled organisms; they don’t understand urban planning, or public transport, or humans. They are classified as protists, largely because we’re not sure how else to categorise them, not because they’re particularly ‘protist-y.’ They have no brain and are single-celled for most of their life; so they can’t plan routes, have preferences, or make memories. Right? Except, perhaps they can. Slime moulds are extremely well-studied organisms because they exhibit precisely these behaviours. But how do they think? And what does it mean— to think ? Slime moulds have evidenced memory and learning. The protoplasm network they form is really just one huge cell that eventually develops into a plasmodium, growing and releasing spores. While plasmodial slime moulds (like P. polycephalum ) do this during reproduction, cellular slime moulds (dictyostelids) are able to aggregate together into one cell like this when food is scarce or environments are difficult (meaning they must be able to detect and evaluate if these things are true). Most slime mould behaviour is understood through cell signalling and extracellular interaction mechanisms; responding to chemical gradients using receptors along their membrane, which signal to the cells to move up the concentration gradient of a chemoattractant molecule and away from a chemorepellent. This makes sense; bacteria (like almost every other living organism) do this all the time and it’s the chief way that they make decisions . But what about memory and preferences? What about stimuli beyond the immediate detected chemicals? Slime moulds can, for example, anticipate repeated events and avoid simple traps to reach food hidden behind a U-shaped barrier (2,3). These are beyond input-to-output; something more complex must be happening. Something conscious? Thinking ? The idea of consciousness requiring complex neuronal processes is becoming rapidly outdated as we observe patterns of thinking in organisms that, according to classical definitions, really should not be able to. Using the slime mould as an example, Sims and Kiverstein (2022) argue against the ‘neurocentric’ assumption that an organism must have a brain to be cognisant. Instead, P. polycephalum is suggested to exhibit spatial memory, with cognition being suggested to sometimes include external elements (3). They showed it may undergo simple, habitual learning and hypothesised it uses an oscillation-based mechanism within the cell (3). Similarly, oscillator units along the slime mould’s extending tendrils oscillate at a higher frequency at higher concentrations of food source molecules (like some tasty glucose), signalling to the slime mould to move in that direction (4). Sims and Kiverstein (2022) also posit that the slime trail left by slime mould could function as an external memory mechanism. They found that P. polycephalum avoids slime trails as they represent places it has already been; suggesting a method of spatial memory (4). This was further proved as not a pure input-output response by showing that the avoidance response could be overridden when food is placed on or near slime trails (5). They suggest that the slime mould was able to balance multiple inputs, including oscillation levels and slime trail signals, exhibiting simple decision-making. Should we count these processes as thinking ? This topic is debated by philosophers as much as biologists. Sims and Kiverstein (2022) use the Hypothesis of Extended Cognition, being that mind sometimes extends into the environment outside of the brain and body, to argue firmly that it does count. But at the end of the day, despite understanding the chemical and electrical processes between neurons signalling and the cellular makeup of the brain, we still don’t understand how electrical signals through a series of axons make the leap to complex consciousness. Rudimentary and external cognition pathways, as seen with the slime mould, may also be an evolutionary link in the building blocks to more complex, nerve-based consciousness and decision making (3). We don’t yet understand the phenomena inside our own skulls—how can we hope to define it across all other organisms? Slime moulds clearly have something beyond simple chemical reactions. This begs the question: Aren't our own minds also fundamentally just made of simple chemical reactions? And if a slime mould is able to evaluate multiple inputs, how wonderfully complex must such processes be inside (and outside) a sea anemone, a cockroach or a cat? There’s no way to know what such a consciousness would look like or feel like to our frame of reference. When a slime mould, moving as a network around an agar plate, ‘looks up’ (or an equivalent slime mould action) and perceives unfathomable entities, how does it process that? What does the slime mould think of us? Bibliography 1. Kay R, Mattacchione A, Katrycz C, Hatton BD. Stepwise slime mould growth as a template for urban design. Sci Rep. 2022 Jan 25;12(1):1322. 2. Saigusa T, Tero A, Nakagaki T, Kuramoto Y. Amoebae Anticipate Periodic Events. Phys Rev Lett. 2008 Jan 3;100(1):018101. 3. Sims M, Kiverstein J. Externalized memory in slime mould and the extended (non-neuronal) mind. Cognitive Systems Research. 2022 Jun 1;73:26–35. 4. Reid CR, Latty T, Dussutour A, Beekman M. Slime mold uses an externalized spatial “memory” to navigate in complex environments. Proc Natl Acad Sci U S A. 2012 Oct 23;109(43):17490–4. 5. Reid CR, Beekman M, Latty T, Dussutour A. Amoeboid organism uses extracellular secretions to make smart foraging decisions. Behavioral Ecology. 2013 Jul;24(4):812–8. Previous article Next article Enigma back to

< Back to Issue 5 Three-Parent Babies? The Future of Mitochondrial Donation in Australia Kara Miwa-Dale 24 October 2023 Edited by Yasmin Potts Illustrated by Aisyah Mohammad Sulhanuddin Mitochondria are the ‘powerhouse of the cell’. Sound familiar? This fact was likely drilled into you during high school biology classes (or by looking at memes). Beyond this, you may not have given mitochondria a second thought - but you should! This organelle has been at the centre of some heated parliamentary debates relating to mitochondrial donation. This new IVF technology, which aims to prevent women from passing on mitochondrial disease, will reshape Australia’s approach to genetic and reproductive technologies. Mitochondrial donation was legalised in Australia last year when ‘Maeve’s Law’ was passed in the Senate. This law reform has generated a minefield of social and ethical questions that are yet to be fully answered. What is mitochondrial disease? Mitochondria are the small but mighty structures found in all our cells (except red blood cells) that produce more than 90% of the energy used by our bodies (Cleveland Clinic, 2023). This organelle is vital for the functioning of important organs such as the heart, brain and liver (Cleveland Clinic, 2023). Mitochondria also have their own DNA, with a relatively small genome size of 37 genes (Garcia et al., 2017), compared to the 20,000 genes in our nuclear DNA (Nurk et al., 2022). Mitochondrial disease refers to a group of disorders in which ‘faulty’ mitochondria results in a range of symptoms such as poor motor control, developmental delay, seizures and cardiac disease (Mito Foundation, 2023). Half of the cases of mitochondrial disease are caused by mutations in mitochondrial DNA. These mutations are transmitted through maternal inheritance, which means that all the mitochondria in your cells are passed on from your biological mother (Mito Foundation, 2023). It is believed that about 1 in 200 people have a mutation in their mitochondrial DNA, with 1 in 5000 people having some form of mitochondrial disease (Mito Foundation, 2023). There is currently no cure for this group of conditions. How does mitochondrial donation work? Mitochondrial donation, also known as Mitochondrial Replacement Therapy (MRT), is an IVF technology which aims to prevent women from passing on mitochondrial disease to their children. For individuals with mitochondrial disease, this technology is currently the only way to have biological children without the risk of passing on their disease. MRT is used to create an embryo containing the nuclear DNA from two parents, in addition to mitochondrial DNA from an egg donor. This process involves taking the nuclear DNA from an embryo (created using the mother’s egg and father’s sperm) and inserting it into a donor egg which contains healthy mitochondria (NHMRC, 2023). The child will still inherit all of their unique characteristics, such as hair colour, through the nuclear DNA of their prospective parents. Therefore, it would be impossible to tell that an individual had been conceived through MRT simply by looking at them. Challenges in defining parenthood. Children conceived through MRT have been popularly referred to in the media as ‘three-parent babies’ since the technique creates an embryo containing DNA from three different individuals. However, this label is inaccurate and misleading. It suggests that all three parents make an equal contribution to the identity of the child, when in fact mitochondrial donors contribute only 0.1% of the child’s total genetic material. So, technically the term ‘2.002-parent babies’ would be more accurate! Under Australian law, mitochondrial donors will not have legal status as parents since their genetic contribution is not thought to influence the unique characteristics of the child. However, there are some concerns about the potential psychological impacts on children conceived through MRT, as the definition of parenthood is becoming increasingly blurry. It is possible that children conceived through mitochondrial donation will regard their mitochondrial donor as significant to their identity, considering how different their life may have looked without them. As researchers learn more about the function of mitochondria, we may indeed find that mitochondrial DNA has a greater influence on a person’s characteristics than we once thought. More recent studies have linked mitochondrial DNA to athletic performance (Maruszak et al., 2014), psychiatric disorders (Sequeira et al., 2012), and ageing (Wallace, 2010). Should mitochondrial donors remain anonymous? If mitochondrial donors contribute such a tiny amount of DNA to a child, and do not influence any of their personal characteristics, should they be obligated to disclose their identity to the recipient? Australia no longer allows egg or sperm donors to remain anonymous in order to protect the rights of individuals to know their biological origins. Yet, in the case of mitochondrial donation, there is a much smaller proportion of DNA involved. Some experts have compared mitochondrial donation to organ donation, in the sense that the donation also provides someone with the organ (or organelle) that enables them to live a healthy life, without altering their unique characteristics. It has therefore been argued that mitochondrial donation should be treated in a similar way to organ donation, allowing donors to remain anonymous. Considering that donated eggs are often in low supply, permitting anonymous donors may provide a way of improving the availability of donor eggs. It is likely that Australia will follow the lead of the UK by permitting anonymous donation. Are we ‘playing God’ by altering the genome? By making heritable changes to an individual’s genome, we are heading into new and potentially dangerous territory. Opponents of mitochondrial donation have voiced fears about the ‘slippery slope’ between trying to eradicate mitochondrial disease and taking this technology too far into the realm of ‘designer babies’. Considering that mitochondrial donation does not involve making any changes to nuclear DNA, and can only be used for medical reasons, these statements seem a bit sensationalist. However, there are some genuine reasons to be concerned about the safety of this technology and its implications for the future of humankind. While MRT is generally considered to be safe based on clinical research, there are still some uncertainties about its efficacy in clinical practice. For example, clinical research has found that there is a chance of ‘carry-over’ of unhealthy mitochondria during the MRT process (Klopstock, Klopstock & Prokisch, 2016). If this carry-over occurs, there is a potential for the numbers of unhealthy mitochondria to gradually increase as the embryo develops, essentially undoing all the hard work of creating an embryo free from mitochondrial disease. However, the percentage of carry-over is usually less than 2% and is likely to become lower as the technology advances (Klopstock, Klopstock & Prokisch, 2016). Unfortunately, we won’t know about any negative long-term impacts of MRT until we are able to observe the development of children conceived through this technology. However, adults over the age of 18 cannot be forced to participate in a study, which makes it more challenging to track long-term outcomes. An important consideration is the privacy and autonomy of these individuals - that they are not over-medicalised or viewed as some sort of ‘spectacle’ to the public. The future of mitochondrial donation in Australia. ‘Maeve’s Law’ was named in honour of Maeve Hood, a cheerful 7-year-old who was diagnosed with a rare mitochondrial disease at 18 months old. The law was passed with the aim of preventing the transmission of mitochondrial disease in Australia, which affects around fifty families each year. This revolutionary law permits the creation of a human embryo containing genetic material from three people and allows heritable changes to be made to the genome (although under strict guidelines). Such practices were previously illegal in Australia due to understandable concern that these technologies could be destructive in the wrong hands. Maeve’s Law introduces an exception to these prohibitions solely for the purpose of preventing serious mitochondrial disease. While MRT is no longer illegal in Australia, Maeve’s Law does not authorise the immediate use of MRT in clinical practice. The law outlines a two-stage approach in which the technology will be implemented, provided that clinical trials are successful. This initiative will be conducted by Monash University through the mitoHOPE (Healthy Outcomes Pilot and Evaluation) program, for which they received $15 million in funding (Monash University, 2023). Stage 1, which is expected to last around ten years, will involve clinical research aimed at improving MRT techniques and validating its safety. After an initial review, mitochondrial donation may become available in a clinical practice setting in Stage 2. Mitochondrial donation is an exciting technology which provides hope to the many Australians touched by the devastating effects of mitochondrial disease. However, it is important that more research is conducted into its safety and efficacy, as well as the long-term implications of its use. As is often the case with groundbreaking technologies such as this, the laws and policies lag behind the science. The passing of Maeve’s Law is only the start of what will be a long journey to the successful implementation of mitochondrial donation in Australia. The next ten years will be crucial in setting a precedent for how our society approaches the use of other novel genetic technologies in healthcare. The question is no longer ‘should we use mitochondrial donation?’ but ‘how can we implement this technology in a safe and ethical way?’ References Cleveland Clinic. (2023). Mitochondrial Diseases . https://my.clevelandclinic.org/health/diseases/15612-mitochondrial-diseases Garcia, I., Jones, E., Ramos, M., Innis-Whitehouse, W., & Gilkerson, R. (2017). The little big genome: The organization of mitochondrial DNA . Frontiers in Bioscience (Landmark Edition), 22, 710. Klopstock, T., Klopstock, B., & Prokisch, H. (2016). Mitochondrial replacement approaches: Challenges for clinical implementation . Genome Medicine, 8(1), 1-3. Maruszak, A., Adamczyk, J. G., Siewierski, M., Sozański, H., Gajewski, A., & Żekanowski, C. (2014). Mitochondrial DNA variation is associated with elite athletic status in the Polish population. Scandinavian Journal of Medicine & Science in Sports, 24(2), 311-318. Mito Foundation. (2023). Maybe Mito Patient Factsheet. https://www.mito.org.au/wp-content/uploads/2019/01/Maybe-Mito-Patient-Factsheet1.pdf Mito Foundation. (2023). Mitochondrial Disease: The Need For Mitochondrial Donation . https://www.mito.org.au/wp-content/uploads/2019/01/Brief-mitochondrial-donation-2.pdf Monash University. (2023). Introducing Mitochondrial Donation into Australia. The mitoHOPE Program. https://www.monash.edu/medicine/mitohope National Health and Medical Research Council. (2023). Mitochondrial Donation. https://www.nhmrc.gov.au/mitochondrial-donation Nurk, S., Koren, S., Rhie, A., Rautiainen, M., Bzikadze, A. V., Mikheenko, A., & Phillippy, A. M. (2022). The complete sequence of a human genome . Science, 376(6588), 44-53. Sequeira, A., Martin, M. V., Rollins, B., Moon, E. A., Bunney, W. E., Macciardi, F., & Vawter, M. P. (2012). Mitochondrial mutations and polymorphisms in psychiatric disorders. Frontiers in Genetics, 3, 103. Wallace, D. C. (2010). Mitochondrial DNA mutations in disease and aging. Environmental and Molecular Mutagenesis, 51(5), 440-450. Wicked back to