
"The Selfish Gene." "Selfish DNA." Oh, how such phrases can get people bent out of shape. Stephen Jay Gould hated such talk (see
a little book called The Panda's Thumb), and Richard Dawkins devoted more time to answering critics of his use of the term 'selfish' than should have been necessary. Dawkins' thesis was pretty straightforward, and he provided real examples of "selfish" behavior of genes in both
The Selfish Gene and its superior sequel,
The Extended Phenotype. But there have always been critics who
can't abide the notion of a gene behaving badly.
Leaving aside silly bickering about the attribution of selfishness or moral competence to little pieces of DNA, let's consider what we might mean if we tried to imagine a really selfish piece of DNA. I mean a completely self-centered, utterly narcissistic little piece of DNA, one that not only seeks its own interest but does so with rampant disregard for other pieces of DNA and even for the organism in which it travels. Can we imagine, for example, a piece of DNA that deliberately harms its host in order to propagate itself?
Sure, we might picture genes acting in naked self-interest, perhaps colluding to create an organism
that can fly and mate but can't eat. We can picture genes driving organisms to
take outrageous risks in order to reproduce. And we can picture millions and millions of "jumping genes" that don't seem to care at all about the host's welfare while they hop about in bloated mammalian genomes. (If you are one who prefers to think of these
transposable elements as beautifully-designed marvels of information transfer and storage, you can have a pass on that last one for now, because you won't like where we're going with this.) But can we picture a gene that actively harms its host in order to get ahead?
At first, this might seem ridiculous. How can harming the host help a gene propagate

itself? We can talk about the examples above, and explain each through some reproductive benefit or trade-off. But I'm not talking about negligence here; I'm talking about harm. Well, okay. I'm talking about
killing babies.
I'm talking about a gene that kills the embryo in which it's expressed, unless the embryo promises to propagate the gene. The most famous example of such an outrageously selfish gene is the Medea element, found in certain beetles. ('Medea' is both an acronym and a
deliciously evil description of the effect of the element.) Here's the basic idea: a female that carries the Medea element has some offspring. Some of those embryos will have the Medea element in their genomic endowment and others won't. But all of the embryos will be exposed to the Medea effect, because it comes into the embryo through the egg, which was created by the Medea-carrying mother. The Medea effect kills any embryo that doesn't carry its own copy of the Medea element. The survivors are the ones that carry the element. Pretty smart, huh?
How this works, exactly, is not well understood. But Medea isn't the only selfish little piece of DNA that stoops to infanticide.
Another example was described just a few years ago in the
nematode C. elegans, that workhorse of developmental genetics. Called the peel-zeel element, it's just a little different from Medea: in the peel-zeel system, the embryo-killing curse comes from the dad. (Selfish elements like this are quite rare, and this paternally-acting system is the only known element of that kind.) But the sick story is otherwise the same: only those embryos that carry their own copy of the peel-zeel element can avoid sperm-carried destruction. Now some new results, published in
this month's PLoS Biology, are revealing how this evil plan is carried out. The article, "
A Novel Sperm-Delivered Toxin Causes Late-Stage Embryo Lethality and Transmission Ratio Distortion in C. elegans," was authored by Hannah Seidel and colleagues.
The group had previously shown that the paternal genetic element would kill embryos that didn't have an "antidote," and had explained the peculiar genetic arrangement that keeps this element from being driven completely to fixation in the population. (An element that kills everyone but itself would be expected to quickly infest the entire population, but this doesn't occur in the case of the peel-zeel element.) Although the authors knew a bit about the antidote gene (called zeel-1), they knew nothing about the killer gene or how it worked; they knew only that it was probably very close to the antidote gene. They did have one particularly useful tool, especially valuable in the experimental wonderland of genetics that is
C. elegans: they had some mutants with perfectly good antidote function but no killing ability. So they used those mutants to do some very nice genetic mapping experiments, and discovered the precise locations of the mutations that abolished the lethal effect. Interestingly, those mutations were in an "intergenic interval" in the fully-sequenced
C. elegans genome, right next to zeel-1. In other words, the killing activity seemed to be right next to the antidote, in a part of the genome that contained no known genes. Or, more accurately, it contained no
annotated genes. It turns out that we're still discovering new genes in fully-sequenced genomes. (It's actually not that easy to identify a bona fide gene in a gigantic DNA sequence.) And Seidel et al. had just discovered a new gene - the peel-1 gene. It makes a protein somewhat similar to zeel-1.
Once they had the actual gene in hand, the authors could probe the protein's function.

They showed that it is packed into a particular type of delivery vehicle inside sperm, which are the only cells that express it. The delivery vehicles ensure that each embryo is provided with an adequate dose of the toxin. Oddly, the lethal protein acts somewhat late in development, in skin and muscle cells, and the embryo dies a grisly death unless it carries the antidote. The image on the right (from the cover of the
July 2011 issue of PLoS Biology) shows two affected embryos (the blobs on the left and right) and one happily normal worm.
In another cool experiment, the authors turned on the death gene artificially in adult animals, and it killed them just fine. They could save those otherwise-doomed worms by turning on the antidote artificially.
The peel-zeel element, then, is a great example of a truly ruthless selfish genetic element. The toxin and the antidote are side-by-side in the genome, so that an animal with the antidote will almost certainly also receive the toxin. (Think about how different things would look if the antidote gene were separate from the toxin; the toxin could quickly lose its ability to propagate itself through the generations.) And the toxin is sperm-delivered to all embryos. This combination of traits allows the paternally-carried element to kill any embryo without a copy of the element.
As far as we know, the peel-zeel system serves only its own interests. It offers no fitness advantage to its host, and is likely instead to exact a cost. Its presence in the nematode genome is easy to explain in a biosphere teeming with "selfish" DNA that admits no evident "purpose" beyond its own propagation. That's not to say it can't be useful; as
an accompanying commentary notes, DNA-encoded toxin/antidote systems could be
employed by well-meaning humans to seemingly benevolent ends. But whether or not one chooses to see the peel-zeel system as a product of "design," the pattern of "selfish" propagation is hard to miss. And, surely, hard to restrain.
[Cross-posted at
Quintessence of Dust.]
_______
Seidel, H., Ailion, M., Li, J., van Oudenaarden, A., Rockman, M., & Kruglyak, L. (2011). A Novel Sperm-Delivered Toxin Causes Late-Stage Embryo Lethality and Transmission Ratio Distortion in
C. elegans.
PLoS Biology, 9 (7) DOI:
10.1371/journal.pbio.1001115
17 Comments
Chris Lawson · 3 August 2011
Great post, Steve. I love these fascinating little genomic discoveries. (As for people who think of LINEs as "beautifully-designed marvels of information transfer and storage", they must not be aware that LINEs tend to copy themselves rather randomly, including into the middle of functional gene sequences or control sequences.)
DS · 3 August 2011
"But whether or not one chooses to see the peel-zeel system as a product of “design,” the pattern of “selfish” propagation is hard to miss. And, surely, hard to restrain."
And that's the point. In a complex system that has evolved over millions of years, we would expect to find all sorts of redundancies, inefficiencies, suboptimal characters, balanced lethals, selfish propagation, etc. This is not the kind of thing that one would expect from any kind of intelligent design. Assuming of course that the designer is not an incompetent boob, or that the nematodes were not punished because Eve ate an apple.
The more we learn about genomes the more we understand the basics of evolution. It certainly is exciting to live in the age of comparative genomics.
Matt Bright · 3 August 2011
Not sure it's worth assuming selfishness. As I mentioned at t'other blog, similar systems are used by bacteria to shut down cell division under starvation conditions. Might something similar be happening here - make it harder to produce too many offspring when a) they won't survive anyway and b) they'll eat all your stuff so that you starve to death before you get to spawn in times of plenty. Certainly it's a testable hypothesis.
Which, I think, is the problem with value judgments like 'selfish' when applied to genes. Internalise them too much, and you tend to see the 'selfish' answer. We're creatures burdened by a tendency to cognitive bias and the formation of bogus-but-temporarily-useful generalisations. Good science, surely, does everything it can to counteract such tendencies...
Vaughn · 3 August 2011
C elegans has a different system for dealing with starvation - the dauer stage. Young, developing worms enter a long-lived, non-feeding, non-reproducing stage called the "dauer" until food reappears. Then development continues to adulthood. If there is a function for the peel-zeel system, it is unlikely to be for surviving starvation.
The Jumbuck · 4 August 2011
The question is how did the toxin and the antidote come together. How could that happen by random chance? This is a problem for Darwinism and not intelligent design. Either they just came together by random chance or else the antidote was already there before the toxin which would mean foresight which blind evolution does not possess.
Midnight Rambler · 4 August 2011
Very, very cool. I'm not sure I buy any of their potential explanations for how the system arose though. The fact that antidote is closely related to two other genes while the toxin has no clear relation to any other gene makes me wonder if the latter might be an insert from a bacterial or viral pathogen. It's hard to see how this kind of system could have evolved with two genes in parallel, but not impossible, as they demonstrate the membrane domain of zeel alone can protect against low doses of peel (though I can't wait to hear Jumbuck's explanation of how this shows intelligence).
One other neat thing - it's not just the peel-zeel element that's missing in worms without it, they have a 19 kb deletion in the genome. Quite a big chunk! So much for "all mutations are deleterious"...
Rumraket · 4 August 2011
The Jumbuck · 4 August 2011
Dave Lovell · 4 August 2011
harold · 4 August 2011
Steve Matheson · 4 August 2011
harold · 4 August 2011
harold · 4 August 2011
Steve Matheson · 4 August 2011
harold · 4 August 2011
Steve Matheson · 4 August 2011
harold · 4 August 2011