“There was one field of biology that I hated: embryology”

Denis Duboule describes himself as a workaholic. A biologist and geneticist, he heads two research labs – the Laboratory of Developmental Genomics at EPFL (which he’s led for the past 20 years) and a laboratory at Collège de France – reflecting his unfailing commitment to scientific research. His work has resulted in major discoveries in developmental biology and enhanced our understanding of Hox genes, which are genes that play a pivotal role in the formation of body structures in vertebrates. These genes give embryonic cells precise information on their intended position and function.

“Pursuing your passion isn’t a part-time job,” says Duboule. “But you also have to consider the practical aspects. I’ve been working seven days a week for the past 35 years. My wife is also a researcher and works just as hard. People often wonder how we were able to have a family with the kind of hours we work. I tell them we’ve managed to raise four kids who are passionate about what they do and who have stayed out of prison. So far.”

Ross G. Harrison Award caps a stellar career

Duboule may be quick to crack a joke, but he’s always taken his career, and his integrity, very seriously. This devotion has been rewarded with a number of distinctions. And being selected for the Ross G. Harrison Award, handed out by the International Society of Developmental Biology every four years, is a crowning achievement.

“It’s a real honor for me since this is the first time the Award will go to a Swiss scientist,” says Duboule. “I’m especially proud since I don’t really check all the boxes to get it. At my research group, we combine developmental biology with genetics and genomics, going beyond the strict, traditional boundaries of this long-standing field.”

Duboule adds that he’s touched by the support he’s gotten from many colleagues throughout his 35-year career, enabling him to get to where he is today. “The award is an opportunity for me to look back and appreciate how far I’ve come,” he says.

Good fortune as karma

Duboule didn’t grow up in a family of academics, and he never thought he’d end up in biology. So how did he find his true calling? He admits that, as a child, he was fairly unmotivated at school, saving his energy for the sports he loved – windsurfing, skiing and tennis. He even started attending a sports school in Geneva. He also played the guitar, but only occasionally – unlike his two sons who are both professional jazz musicians.

Duboule discovered biology almost by accident after enrolling in the University of Geneva, which he did mainly to stay with friends. “I honestly found my classes annoying at first. I especially hated the field of embryology. Too many complicated words, it was all so confusing,” he says. “But one day I bought an old French book on the topic – Embryologie by Charles Houillon – and finally got a clear explanation of a concept I’d struggled to grasp: gastrulation.” For those of us who may not know, gastrulation is the stage when an embryo organizes into a structure. It’s a crucial process in the development of multi-cell organisms like humans. “And I ended up devoting my career to it.”

Duboule describes embryology as a fascinating field far removed from the “hard” sciences like math and physics. He sees it as a discipline where imagination and hypothesizing play a big role – sometimes even too big, but that suits him just fine. It’s a branch of biology where researchers can dream and explore while remaining true to the quest for knowledge. Embryologists often make mistakes; that’s part of the process. “We wipe the slate clean and start all over, kind of like a painter reworking his canvas,” says Duboule. “Fundamental biology is an infinite playing field, and I’ve gotten a lot out of it.”

An almost-aborted career

Duboule went through a rough spot in his career in the 1980s. At the time he was a PhD student at the University of Geneva, in a research lab headed by Prof. Karl Illmensee. There, Duboule witnessed some “bad scientific behavior.” Duboule soon found himself embroiled in a major research scandal that made the headlines. Prof. Illmensee had published a study in Cell in 1981 where he claimed to have successfully cloned three mice using a revolutionary new method. But Duboule, who had access to the professor’s lab, found some inconsistencies that couldn’t be explained. He was drawn into a legal battle with Prof. Illmensee that dragged on for three years – a bleak period during which Duboule was put under pressure and even threatened. The case went before an international committee. “I wasn’t even sure I would continue working in my field,” says Duboule. “If it weren’t for Kurt Bürki, the senior colleague who blew the whistle, I would’ve given up biology.”

Duboule got back on his feet by taking a position in Strasbourg, where he had an opportunity to work with Prof. Pierre Chambon, a pioneer in molecular genetics. “I still remember the job offer. Pierre said something like ‘Join our team, you can heal your wounds with us.’ I spent five years at his lab. He even put me in charge of a small research group shortly after I joined – something that would be hard to imagine today. Pierre is now 95 and is still a close friend.”

Looking out over five years

“My career could stretch out for another five years since I’ve received funding from Collège de France in Paris for that period,” says Duboule. “In any case, I’ll soon reach programmed obsolescence! It’s rare that you have the option of working until you’re 75. I’ve been extremely lucky – the University of Geneva gave me four additional years and EPFL gave me five, which ended last year. I don’t know if I’ll stay the full five years at Collège de France, but I like being able to decide for myself when I’ll stop working.”