My life with the Leonards: What I learned from two brilliant scientists

If you've spent much time with me, you know I don't mind a bit of name dropping.

A few months back, I had the opportunity to dine with Sen. Elizabeth Warren. I brought my eldest child, Alex, with me—and the inspiration that happened at that table was absolutely priceless.

I've hung out with Pink (That bought me some cred with my kids, at least for a bit.) And a few years ago, at the Time 100 Gala, I was a cocktail away from asking Amy Adams to dance.

I can go on. Would you like to hear me go on? No? Oh... OK. That's fine. Not really the point anyway.

The point is that even though my line of work puts me in contact with some pretty nifty people—singers, athletes, billionaires, political leaders and famous mad scientists—the names I most often drop into conversation are two guys that many people have never heard of.

But those two guys—both named Leonard, as it happens—have been incredibly influential to me.

The first Leonard is Lenny Guarente, a biologist at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology whose work on lifespan extension in yeast, roundworms and mice has come second only to his dedication to developing the next generation of scientists. He's one of the most independent thinkers and rebellious intellectuals you'll ever meet. The alumni of Lenny's lab comprise a "who-is-who" of international aging science, and I'm lucky to say I am one of the fortunate few who got to spend time with Lenny at MIT.

From Lenny Guarente I learned something vital: Great scientists forge their own paths. It's easy to be a follower in this world. It's easy to do work that is derivative. It's easy to push the ball a tiny way down the field. Lenny demanded more than that from the researchers in his lab. He told us to swing for the fences.

The second Leonard is Leonard Hayflick, who decades ago designed a simple but clever experiment to test whether cells’ limited capacity to replicate in culture was caused by microbial contamination or some unknown culture condition. At the time, it had only recently been shown that female cells could be distinguished from male cells by the presence of Barr bodies (formed by condensed inactive X chromosomes.) Using Barr bodies as a guide, Leonard discovered that, after a series of reproductions, only female cells remained, showing that replication ceased "not because of some extrinsic factor," he would later explain, "but because of an intrinsic cell phenomenon—a revolutionary idea at the time." The idea was so revolutionary, in fact, that it was rejected by The Journal of Experimental Medicine before being accepted for publication in Experimental Cell Research in 1961. What's more, the rejection came from Francis Peyton Rous who was already scientific royalty and went on to win a Nobel Prize a few years later.

From Leonard Hayflick, I learned something that has helped steel me for the challenges that have come from forging my own path the way Lenny Guarente demanded: Never give up on what you believe. 

I don't always see eye-to-eye with either of the Leonards. Lenny Guarente and I were once described as being engaged in a "bitter dispute" that was nothing short of a "family feud." (It wasn't really anything like that, but we have published dueling papers and have been engaged in the very sort of spirited competition that drives science forward.) Leonard Hayflick has been an outspoken critic of efforts to extend human lifespans, and has gone so far as to say that aging is not a disease; I obviously disagree.

Last week, I was chatting with some undergraduates at Harvard, who deeply impressed me with their interest in and insights about aging research, and especially with the tough questions they asked about the social and environmental implications of my work. Later, over a beer with a friend, I reflected on how nice it was to think they might one day engage in their own bit of name dropping—with me!

"Oh, they'll do that," my friend said. "They'll tell all their friends about the time they disagreed with you in front of a classroom of fellow students."

Yeah, I think I'm OK with that.

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Hey there. I'm writing a book about the past, present and future fight to slow, stop and reverse aging. Want to help me name it? Head over to Twitter—I'm @davidasinclair—and give me your suggestion!