He Watched Biology from Up Close and Afar

It’s difficult to capture the spirit of Lewis Thomas ’33’s legacy through any single contribution, making it apt that his name adorns both annual prizes for science writing given by Rockefeller University and the lab housing Princeton’s Department of Molecular Biology.

Thomas arrived at Princeton as a 15-year-old freshman in the fall of 1929 at almost the same moment that the Great Depression began. He spent his early years at the University largely uninterested in his studies, describing himself as a “moult of dullness and laziness.” His more enjoyable moments came drinking bathtub gin at the now-defunct Key and Seal Club and writing humor pieces for the Princeton Tiger magazine.

It would not be long, however, before the seeds that would blossom into Thomas’ career-defining interests were planted. Thomas first discovered his interest in biology while taking an advanced class in the subject with Professor Wilbur Swingle, who also introduced Thomas to Jacques Loeb’s science writing. He ultimately graduated near the middle of his class, in what he humorously called the “gentlemen’s third.”

The Depression was in full force as Thomas neared the end of his time at Princeton, making the possibility of employment a central question in his imminent choice of career. Lewis’ father, Joseph Thomas 1899, had maintained steady work as a physician throughout the Depression, and the younger Thomas accordingly decided that he too would pursue a career in medicine.

After graduating from Harvard Medical School and serving with the Naval Research Unit in World War II, however, Thomas shifted his focus from clinical practice to research. By the mid-1950s, Thomas’ contributions to immunology had landed him a position as the chair of NYU’s department of pathology.

While at NYU, Thomas noticed that treatment of rabbits with the enzyme papain led to ear drooping followed by recovery a few days later. Thomas deduced experimentally that the drooping was due to degradation of ear cartilage by the enzyme, and the recovery due to the subsequent formation of new tissue. Thomas’ discovery that cartilage was able to quickly regenerate drew recognition, and pictures of his rabbits graced the pages of newspapers nationwide.

Thomas left NYU to become the dean of Yale Medical School and then president and chancellor of Sloan Kettering Cancer Center. It was during this period that Thomas’ prowess as a scientific communicator developed into a full-on writing career. His speech at a 1970 conference on inflammation was so irreverent yet rigorous that it was printed and distributed, prompting New England Journal of Medicine editor Franz Ingelfinger to give Thomas a monthly column.

Thomas wrote “Notes of a Biology Watcher” for the next 10 years, showcasing his own philosophical style inspired by Loeb’s work. Thomas frequently demonstrated his fascination with the organizational principles in biology; he wrote about cells as conglomerates and societies as organisms and compared the collective behaviors of humans and ants. Also evident were his interests in music and language, which would become the subjects of Thomas’ later books. The essays were collected into two volumes that netted Thomas two National Book Awards. His new vocations gave him a degree of separation from the science that proved helpful in his philosophizing.

Thomas’ professional service was not limited to the organizations that employed him, and he was noted as an important voice on the New York City Board of Health throughout the 1950s and ’60s. Thomas also extended his commitments beyond medicine, serving on the advisory committee of the environmental organization Friends of the Earth during the ’70s. The association was not to last, however, and Thomas passionately resigned from the committee in 1977 when the organization opposed recombinant DNA research, a position he found scientifically illogical.

Over the course of his life, Thomas’ wide yet intimately connected set of interests established him as the type of thinker that liberal arts universities strive to produce. He died of cancer in 1993, but not before the Princeton lab bearing his name opened in 1987, erected thanks to a gift from Laurence Rockefeller ’32, who asked for the building to be named after his friend.