Genome: The Autobiography of a Species in 23 Chapters. Matt Ridley

GENES on the same twenty-three CHROMOSOMES. In practice, there are often small and subtle differences between the paternal and maternal versions of each gene, differences that account for blue eyes or brown, for example. When we breed, we pass on one complete set, but only after swapping bits of the paternal and maternal chromosomes in a procedure known as RECOMBINATION.

      Imagine that the genome is a book.

      

      There are twenty-three chapters, called CHROMOSOMES.

      Each chapter contains several thousand stories, called GENES.

      Each story is made up of paragraphs, called EXONS, which are interrupted by advertisements called INTRONS.

      Each paragraph is made up of words, called CODONS.

      Each word is written in letters called BASES.

      

      There are one billion words in the book, which makes it longer than 5,000 volumes the size of this one, or as long as 800 Bibles. If I read the genome out to you at the rate of one word per second for eight hours a day, it would take me a century. If I wrote out the human genome, one letter per millimetre, my text would be as long as the River Danube. This is a gigantic document, an immense book, a recipe of extravagant length, and it all fits inside the microscopic nucleus of a tiny cell that fits easily upon the head of a pin.

      The idea of the genome as a book is not, strictly speaking, even a metaphor. It is literally true. A book is a piece of digital information, written in linear, one-dimensional and one-directional form and defined by a code that transliterates a small alphabet of signs into a large lexicon of meanings through the order of their groupings. So is a genome. The only complication is that all English books read from left to right, whereas some parts of the genome read from left to right, and some from right to left, though never both at the same time.

      (Incidentally, you will not find the tired word ‘blueprint’ in this book, after this paragraph, for three reasons. First, only architects and engineers use blueprints and even they are giving them up in the computer age, whereas we all use books. Second, blueprints are very bad analogies for genes. Blueprints are two-dimensional maps, not one-dimensional digital codes. Third, blueprints are too literal for genetics, because each part of a blueprint makes an equivalent part of the machine or building; each sentence of a recipe book does not make a different mouthful of cake.)

      Whereas English books are written in words of variable length using twenty-six letters, genomes are written entirely in three-letter words, using only four letters: A, C, G and T (which stand for adenine, cytosine, guanine and thymine). And instead of being written on flat pages, they are written on long chains of sugar and phosphate called DNA molecules to which the bases are attached as side rungs. Each chromosome is one pair of (very) long DNA molecules.

      The genome is a very clever book, because in the right conditions it can both photocopy itself and read itself. The photocopying is known as REPLICATION, and the reading as TRANSLATION. Replication works because of an ingenious property of the four bases: A likes to pair with T, and G with C. So a single strand of DNA can copy itself by assembling a complementary strand with Ts opposite all the As, As opposite all the Ts, Cs opposite all the Gs and Gs opposite all the Cs. In fact, the usual state of DNA is the famous DOUBLE HELIX of the original strand and its complementary pair intertwined.

      To make a copy of the complementary strand therefore brings back the original text. So the sequence ACGT become TGCA in the copy, which transcribes back to ACGT in the copy of the copy. This enables DNA to replicate indefinitely, yet still contain the same information.

      Translation is a little more complicated. First the text of a gene is TRANSCRIBED into a copy by the same base-pairing process, but this time the copy is made not of DNA but of RNA, a very slightly different chemical. RNA, too, can carry a linear code and it uses the same letters as DNA except that it uses U, for uracil, in place of T. This RNA copy, called the MESSENGER RNA, is then edited by the excision of all introns and the splicing together of all exons (see above).

      The messenger is then befriended by a microscopic machine called a RIBOSOME, itself made partly of RNA. The ribosome moves along the messenger, translating each three-letter codon in turn into one letter of a different alphabet, an alphabet of twenty different AMINO ACIDS, each brought by a different version of a molecule called TRANSFER RNA. Each amino acid is attached to the last to form a chain in the same order as the codons. When the whole message has been translated, the chain of amino acids folds itself up into a distinctive shape that depends on its sequence. It is now known as a PROTEIN.

      Almost everything in the body, from hair to hormones, is either made of proteins or made by them. Every protein is a translated gene. In particular, the body’s chemical reactions are catalysed by proteins known as ENZYMES. Even the processing, photocopying error-correction and assembly of DNA and RNA molecules themselves – the replication and translation – are done with the help of proteins. Proteins are also responsible for switching genes on and off, by physically attaching themselves to PROMOTER and ENHANCER sequences near the start of a gene’s text. Different genes are switched on in different parts of the body.

      When genes are replicated, mistakes are sometimes made. A letter (base) is occasionally missed out or the wrong letter inserted. Whole sentences or paragraphs are sometimes duplicated, omitted or reversed. This is known as MUTATION. Many mutations are neither harmful nor beneficial, for instance if they change one codon to another that has the same amino acid ‘meaning’: there are sixty-four different codons and only twenty amino acids, so many DNA ‘words’ share the same meaning. Human beings accumulate about one hundred mutations per generation, which may not seem much given that there are more than a million codons in the human genome, but in the wrong place even a single one can be fatal.

      All rules have exceptions (including this one). Not all human genes are found on the twenty-three principal chromosomes; a few live inside little blobs called mitochondria and have probably done so ever since mitochondria were free-living bacteria. Not all genes are made of DNA: some viruses use RNA instead. Not all genes are recipes for proteins. Some genes are transcribed into RNA but not translated into protein; the RNA goes directly to work instead either as part of a ribosome or as a transfer RNA. Not all reactions are catalysed by proteins; a few are catalysed by RNA instead. Not every protein comes from a single gene; some are put together from several recipes. Not all of the sixty-four three-letter codons specifies an amino acid: three signify STOP commands instead. And finally, not all DNA spells out genes. Most of it is a jumble of repetitive or random sequences that is rarely or never transcribed: the so-called junk DNA.

      That is all you need to know. The tour of the human genome can begin.

       CHROMOSOME 1 Life

      All forms that perish other forms supply, (By turns we catch the vital breath and die) Like bubbles on the sea of matter borne, They rise, they break, and to that sea return.

      Alexander Pope, An Essay on Man

      In the beginning was the word. The word proselytised the sea with its message, copying itself unceasingly and forever. The word discovered how to rearrange chemicals so as to capture little eddies in the stream of entropy and make them live. The word transformed the land surface of the planet from a dusty hell to a verdant paradise. The word eventually blossomed and became sufficiently ingenious to build a porridgy contraption called a human brain that could discover and be aware of the word itself.

      My porridgy contraption boggles every time I think this thought. In four thousand million years of earth history, I am lucky enough to be alive today. In five million species, I was fortunate enough to be born a conscious human being. Among six thousand million people on the planet, I was privileged enough to be born in the country where the word was discovered. In all of the earth’s history, biology and geography, I was born just five years after the moment when, and just two hundred miles from the place where, two members of my own species discovered the structure of DNA and hence uncovered the greatest, simplest and most surprising secret in the universe. Mock my zeal if you wish; consider