Francis Crick
Article
Francis Crick is a recurring person in the Astral Codex Ten archive, appearing 3 times across 3 issues between May 20, 2022 and September 12, 2025. The archive places it in contexts such as “James Watson and Francis Crick’s 1953 work on the structure of DNA”; “known since people like Francis Crick and Christof Koch researched it in the 1990s”; “Francis Crick, of Watson and Crick fame, suggested that post-translational modifications of proteins”. It most often appears alongside Harvard, Wikipedia, A Change of Heart.
Metadata
- Category: People
- Mention count: 3
- Issue count: 3
- First seen: May 20, 2022
- Last seen: September 12, 2025
Appears In
- Your Book Review: Making Nature
- Consciousness As Recursive Reflections
- Your Review: The Synaptic Plasticity and Memory Hypothesis
Related Pages
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- Harvard (2 shared issues)
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- Wikipedia (2 shared issues)
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- A Change of Heart (1 shared issues)
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- Abraham (1 shared issues)
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- Adams (1 shared issues)
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- Adams and Garrison (1 shared issues)
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- Aldous Huxley (1 shared issues)
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- Alexander Forbes (1 shared issues)
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- Alexander Macmillan (1 shared issues)
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- Alfred Russel Wallace (1 shared issues)
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- ANNs (1 shared issues)
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- Aplysia (1 shared issues)
External Links
Source Context
Recovered passages from the original issue text. When the raw archive preserved outbound links inside the source passage, they are listed directly under the quote.
Thomas Huxley. Also known for establishing a network of other famous Huxleys, such as his grandson Aldous, the author of Brave New World. Victorian Britain’s most beloved scientist — yes, I’m talking about Darwin again — also enjoyed publishing in Nature. Darwin was an elderly and highly respected scientist by the time of the journal’s founding, and the abstracts and letters he frequently sent to Lockyer’s publication certainly gave it a status boost. And this was only the start of a long list of household names who got involved with Nature at one point or another. In physics, for instance, Lord Kelvin, Ernest Rutherford, Niels Bohr, Enrico Fermi, and Lise Meitner were all important contributors. Some of the most famous papers in the field, such as James Chadwick’s 1932 report on the possible existence of the neutron, or Meitner and Otto Frisch’s 1939 letter proposing the idea of nuclear fission, were published in Nature. In biology, James Watson and Francis Crick’s 1953 work on the structure of DNA is probably the most historic paper to have appeared within its pages. Since Nature in the mid-20th century was popular but still not very prestigious, I’m comfortable assuming that these famous scientists and discoveries helped its reputation rather than the other way around. Today, the arrow of causation is mostly reversed: scientists become influential because they publish research in the most prestigious journal, rather than the journal becoming prestigious because it publishes big names and big papers. Of course, this is a self-reinforcing feedback loop that keeps benefiting Nature, thanks to network effects. Finally, a word about language. Nature, obviously, is published in English. But English wasn’t the dominant intellectual language back in the 19th century: French and German were more important. The rise of English as the lingua franca of science occurred during the 20th century, thanks to the political dominance of the British Empire and then the United States. As a result, Nature and its American equivalent Science gained a major advantage over their French (e.g. La Nature) and German (e.g. Naturwissenschaften) counterparts. Making Nature doesn’t belabor this self-evident point, but it’s worth mentioning that Nature benefitted from a global network effect that would have been far less attainable outside the Anglosphere. Survival and Conservatism Speed, elite networks, and English are great, but they won’t help if your publication fails to turn a profit and shuts down. As they say, the lesson of survivorship bias is that you should optimize for being a survivor. Thus the story of Nature is also the story of how it managed to stay alive, unlike most of its contemporaries. Nature was (and still is!) a venture of a London publisher called Macmillan and Company. It was very much intended to make money. But Victorian Britain was a crowded market for periodicals. It was common for publications to last just a few years after proving unable to attract enough subscribers. Lockyer himself had been briefly involved as the co-founder and science editor of a generalist magazine called The Reader, which existed only from 1863 to 1867 (and lost its science section in 1865). It would be tempting to contrast this with the popular success of Nature, but as we saw, most of Nature’s target audience couldn’t even understand the journal, and as a result both its subscriber base and revenue remained small. The survival of Nature therefore depended on the goodwill of its owner, Alexander Macmillan. And it took a lot of goodwill! Nature operated at a loss for an entire 30 years. Only at the very end of the 19th century did it manage to turn a profit. This surprising tolerance for financial loss seems to have stemmed from the other activities of Macmillan and Company: they sold scientific books, and Nature was a good way to reach that market. Still, without a wealthy publisher who was committed to back up Lockyer’s project for a long time, it would likely not have survived. Lockyer also displayed impressive commitment. He remained at the helm of the journal for a full half-century, from 1869 to 1919. Although none of his successors would hold the position that long, most would last at least twenty years, resulting in a strikingly short list of eight editors-in-chief over a 153-year history. Meanwhile, the journal was never sold: Macmillan and Company still exists and still owns Nature, even though corporate mergers have made the exact ownership structure difficult to figure out. (Springer Nature, a company created in 2015 by merging some divisions of Macmillan and other entities, is the immediate parent company of Nature.) The picture that emerges is that of a stable, conservative institution, with committed owners and editors, that has changed slowly even as it was a witness to the changes in science itself. This is nicely reflected in the stability of Nature’s mission and visual identity. The original mission statement was left unchanged from 1869 to 2000, including gendered references to “Scientific men” and “men eminent in Science.” The current version is shorter and gender-neutral, but overall similar, although I note that the ordering of the two main aims has been reversed: First, to serve scientists through prompt publication of significant advances in any branch of science, and to provide a forum for the reporting and discussion of news and issues concerning science. Second, to ensure that the results of science are rapidly disseminated to the public throughout the world, in a fashion that conveys their significance for knowledge, culture and daily life. Similarly, the original masthead image, which dates from the very first issue, appeared at the top of the journal for 89 years, until 1958 (with slight variations). A central point of Making Nature is that Nature co-evolved with the British and international institutions of science. To do so, it had to strike a balance between conservatism and innovation. My impression is that Nature was more often on the conservative end of the spectrum, serving as a rock-solid stage where the rest of science could take place. Such an attitude was helpful from the beginning, but it probably became even more important after the 1970s, when everything changed. III. WTF Happened in the 1970s? A fun puzzle from the social sciences: what happened in the early seventies? As evidenced from a multitude of charts, various patterns in society seem to have veered off course around 1971, including growth in wages, inflation, housing costs, energy consumption, number of lawyers, divorce rates, fertility rates, and meat consumption. Whether it was a coincidence or part of the same mysterious phenomenon, we can add to this list the rise of prestige in the science publishing industry. To be clear, I’m the one who claims that this shift was a specific and momentous event. Melinda Baldwin acknowledges many times that Nature went from a low-grade magazine to a prestigious journal, but she remains vague as to what, exactly, was the turning point. In the chapter on the 1970s, she treats the increased selectivity and reputation as just one of many things that happened during this period. It was only in the course of writing this review — with a deliberate focus on prestige — that I realized something significant had occurred in that decade, and that this something affected more than just Nature. Let’s see what the book does tell us, and then I’ll offer a plausible explanation from elsewhere. Changes to Nature in the 1970s The 1970s mostly coincide with the leadership of Nature’s shortest-tenured editor, David Davies. Davies took over from John Maddox in 1973 and proceeded to make a number of changes. He made Nature a unitary publication again, after a short-lived experiment to split it into three journals. He reformed the style guide for contributors. He allowed for cartoons and some humor in his editorials. He also overhauled the journal’s physical appearance: from now on, Nature’s covers would feature interesting images as opposed to articles or advertisements. Today’s covers are still in that tradition. Here’s the Nature cover from 2016, as used on the Wikipedia page of the journal. Nature under Maddox and Davies followed the same trend of internationalization as in the previous decades, but the seventies saw what was perhaps the fastest growth outside the UK. Consider these approximate statistics on the origin of research articles from the years when there was a change in editorship: 1966 (when Maddox became editor): 40% British and 60% international
Inline links: a network of other famous Huxleys, report, letter, work, La Nature, Naturwissenschaften, The Reader, still exists, Springer Nature, original mission statement, current version, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!wOmg!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fbucketeer-e05bbc84-baa3-437e-9518-adb32be77984.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F1a1567d4-73fa-4fa9-9a65-f73b6dd233a1_800x320.png, a multitude of charts, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!CaUh!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fbucketeer-e05bbc84-baa3-437e-9518-adb32be77984.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F783677da-78c8-4b94-b0c5-673658b060f8_454x599.jpeg, Wikipedia page of the journal
but patterns can also remain separate, even while running into each other, there has to be a difference between these two states of affairs. And in a physicalist framework, a distinction can’t be only at the level of abstraction of thoughts, where all sorts of rules could be postulated. The distinction must be grounded in the physical neurons that make it. Neuron ingroups and outgroups The pattern that holds a lot of spikes together into a thought is a neural oscillation: neurons firing along circular paths in a synchronized rhythm12. These are commonly called brain waves and Scott has already written about them. They arise when neurons enter a circular, self-repeating pattern of activity, and fall apart as their neurons cease to maintain that pattern. A neuron that is part of one oscillation can hardly also be a part of another, so oscillations compete for neurons. Higher frequency oscillations are smaller, which makes sense because higher frequency means less time for the circular signals to travel, and smaller means less space through which they travel. Small, high frequency ones arise in response to sensory stimuli. They’re where multiple bits of information that synchronously arrive are bound together into a single representation of an object that those bits describe features of, such as its color and movement. This has been known since people like Francis Crick and Christof Koch researched it in the 1990s, and it is widely accepted, probably because it doesn’t make any claim why there would be anything like experience or qualia involved. There are also larger and therefore slower oscillations. Neuronal signal propagation has very variable speeds, but the lowest of low estimates still gives it half a meter per second, i.e. much less than a second to travel straight across the entire brain. Every thought that lasts longer than that, such as your understanding of this sentence, has to be at least a bit circular and therefore oscillatory. This includes pieces of information being “stored in working memory” i.e. maintained for seconds or longer. But the oscillation is just a pattern of interactions between many neurons, so it is itself an abstraction! A truly bottom-up explanation of how thoughts/oscillations can either merge or not merge has to answer how each individual neuron can react differently depending on whether spikes it receives are part of the same oscillation or not. I think it works like this. Spikes that are part of the same oscillation fire in sync; they have a shared rhythm. For each neuron that is taking part in an oscillation, the time elapsed between its own sending of a spike via its axon, and the arrival at its dendrites of subsequent spikes from neurons it oscillates with, remains constant over multiple such intervals. That is what it means to share a constant rhythm.
Over the years, various researchers have made apparently unrelated suggestions that this or that molecule might provide a potential memory storage mechanism. Francis Crick, of Watson and Crick fame, suggested that post-translational modifications of proteins (i.e., you take a protein and you glue something to it) are an appealing potential memory storage format. Robin Holliday suggested that epigenetic mechanisms like DNA methylation might play a role in long-term memory. Various people suggested that specific molecules like CaMKII or CREB transcription factors could store memory, or at the very least were causally involved in memory formation in an important way.