Nobelprijs voor werking immuunsysteem

Als ziekteverwekkers het lichaam willen binnendringen, stuiten ze op een barrière. Wittebloedlichaampjes en andere weerstandscellen proberen bacteriën en virussen zo snel mogelijk onschadelijk te maken. Voor hun onderzoek naar de werking van deze ‘aangeboren’ weerstandsmechanismen krijgen de Amerikaan Bruce Beutler en de Fransman Jules Hoffmann de ene helft van de Nobelprijs. Zij deden hun baanbrekende werk in de jaren negentig.

Maar er is ook een ‘adaptief’ immuunsysteem. Wie eenmaal de mazelen heeft gehad, krijgt die geen tweede keer, omdat het lichaam de ziekteverwekker heeft leren kennen en daarna weet hoe het erop moet reageren. In dit ‘verworven’ immuunsysteem spelen ‘dendritische cellen’ een grote rol als aanjagers van de weerstand. Ze bevinden zich in de neus en longen, maar ook in de huid en maag. Deze cellen ontdekte de Canadees Ralph Steinman al in 1973. Daarvoor krijgt hij de andere helft van de Nobelprijs.

In het verleden wonnen drie Nederlanders de Nobelprijs voor de geneeskunde, waaronder Willem Einthoven (uitvinder van het elektrocardiogram), Christiaan Eijkman (die met een Britse wetenschapper het belang van vitamine B1 ontdekte) en Nicolaas Tinbergen (die samen met twee anderen de prijs kreeg voor de biologische achtergronden van gedrag bij dieren).

Klik hier voor een visuele uitleg over waar de onderzoekers de Nobelprijs hebben gekregen.

“The Dutch are always fixing something. Whether it’s something broken or something perfectly fine as is, it needs to be replanned, refurbished, rearranged. For example, four years ago, when I arrived in Delft, the Mekelpark didn’t exist yet — in its place was the Mekelweg, bustling with cars, buses and people during rush hours.  Moreover, Delft’s roads are constantly under construction, with certain intersections having been re-modelled twice in the past four years. The TU‘s central library was recently completely rearranged, though it seemed perfectly fine before. Now, some parts are better, and some worse, than they used to be, but most are exactly the same, just with newer furniture. So what’s the purpose of this constant remodelling?
At first glance it seems people here are obsessed with optimising their surroundings. Perhaps they’ve learned the hard way, that waiting until dike bursts before repairing it isn’t the best option, so now they eagerly apply the ‘fix it even if it ain’t broken’ philosophy everywhere. Perhaps it’s also due to the country’s limited space: every square-inch must be used and re-used to its full potential, as illustrated by the famous ‘God made the world, but the Dutch made Holland’ saying.
Or perhaps tearing down the old and building the new is what keeps the economy going: money spent on the new goes into the pockets of builders, suppliers, engineers who then spend it, continuing the economic cycle.
I admire this ‘can-do’ attitude. If you continue optimising and renewing stuff, it never wears out or breaks. But all this fixing comes at a price. When you bring in the new, where does the old stuff go? Is it re-used, donated, recycled? But even with today’s technology, only about 60% of recycled materials actually end up in new products, and considering many people don’t recycle, most of the old stuff ends up in the world’s non-renewable trash bins.
Also, new stuff doesn’t always work correctly and sometimes ends up slowing the whole process down instead of bettering it. Our motto is seemingly: ‘Try something new, see how it works, and if it doesn’t, try something else!’ No matter how much theoretical planning we’ve done, life’s practical side always brings ‘surprises’ that force us to take a step backwards, make new changes and re-think our entire plan, which costs valuable time, energy and resources. Ultimately, frustrated and exhausted, we look back and wonder: ‘what was wrong with the old system anyway?’
Sometimes, after dealing with endless piles of administration, or changing my entire study plan for the umpteenth time due to harde knips, new program introductions or phased-out courses, I ask myself in frustration: why can’t things just stay the same, like they do back home? Then I remember that in the four years I’ve been here, I’ve never had to side-step potholes in the road, or had my electricity or water suddenly cut off due to poor maintenance. And then I’m grateful for the construction barricades I pass on my daily commutes. Sure I must side-step them as well, but at least there’s a safe route planned out for this, too.”

Olga Motsyk, from Ukraine, is a BSc aerospace engineering student