GAVNet Collaborative Curation

Athena Akrami's neuroscience lab reopened last month without her. Life for the 38-year-old is a pale shadow of what it was before 17 March, the day she first experienced symptoms of the novel coronavirus. At University College London (UCL), Akrami's students probe how the brain organizes memories to support learning, but at home, she struggles to think clearly and battles joint and muscle pain. "I used to go to the gym three times a week," Akrami says. Now, "My physical activity is bed to couch, maybe couch to kitchen." Her early symptoms were textbook for COVID-19: a fever and cough, followed by shortness of breath, chest pain, and extreme fatigue. For weeks, she struggled to heal at home. But rather than ebb with time, Akrami's symptoms waxed and waned without ever going away. She's had just 3 weeks since March when her body temperature was normal.

But the concept of developing a vaccine at "warp speed" makes many people uncomfortable. In a May survey, 49 percent of the Americans polled said they plan to get a coronavirus vaccine when one is available, 20 percent do not, and 31 percent indicated that they were not sure. The World Health Organization considers "vaccine hesitancy" a major threat to global health, and poor uptake would jeopardize the impact of a coronavirus vaccine.

In an open marketplace, such as a farmers' market where produce and other goods like candles and flowers are exchanged for money, the ideal prices for both consumers and sellers will quickly emerge. For example, if a seller tries to offer a bag of peaches for $10 but another vendor is willing to sell similar peaches for $5, the lower price will eventually win out and become the norm. This phenomenon, which is related to the law of supply and demand, was demonstrated experimentally starting in the 1960s by Caltech alumnus and Nobel Laureate Vernon Smith (BS '49), now at Chapman University, and later by Caltech's Charlie Plott, the William D. Hacker Professor of Economics and Political Science.

Many books have been written about our cosmic origins: the creation of the universe 13.8 billion years ago; the Big Bang and all that followed. The denouement, presumably tens of billions of years away, remains comparatively mysterious. How does it all end? For that matter, does it all end, or can we keep on in our merry way indefinitely? In "The End of Everything: (Astrophysically Speaking)," Mack, a theoretical cosmologist at North Carolina State University, attempts to answer what might seem the most remote of scientific questions.

Now, a research group under the leadership of professor and virologist Søren Riis Paludan from the Department of Biomedicine at Aarhus University, Denmark, has identified a mechanism which is activated in the cells of the immune system when they are attacked by disease. The discovery involves the protein STING, which sends signals to the nucleus of the cell when an infection threatens.