Who cares about lab rodents?

Humanities and social sciences help advance "cultures of care" around laboratory animal science and welfare.

The Cold Futures of Mouse Genetics: Modes of Strain Cryopreservation Since the 1970s.

Cryopreservation, or the freezing of embryos or sperm, has become a routine part of many research projects involving laboratory mice. In this article, we combine historical and sociological methods to produce a cryopolitical analysis of this less explored aspect of animal research. We provide a longitudinal account of mouse embryo and semen storage and uses in the UK and show that cryopreservation enabled researchers to overcome particular challenges-fears of strain loss, societal disapproval, and genetic drift-in ways which enabled the continued existence of strains and contributed to the scaling up of mouse research since World War II. We use the theoretical lens of cryopolitics to explore three different, yet overlapping, cryopolitical strategies that we identify. All share the ability to ensure the continued maintenance of genetically defined strains without the need for continually breeding colonies of mice. We argue that, in contrast to more common imaginaries of species conservation, the cryopolitical rationale can best be understood as purposefully not letting the strain die without requiring animals to live. The ability to freeze mice, then, had the potential to unsettle who the objects of care are in mouse research, from individual animals to the concept of the strain itself.

Professor Giorgi Eliava and the Eliava Institute of Bacteriophage.

In the history of medicine little is known about Prof. Giorgi (George) Eliava, who must be recognized as one of the central figures in the story of bacteriophages. Today it may be said without any exaggeration that without the support that Eliava provided to Felix d'Herelle, much of our knowledge about phage therapy would never have been acquired. Eliava played a central role in developing and promoting therapeutic uses of bacteriophages in the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics and beyond, and it was largely due to his efforts-and the institute that he established-that phage therapy survived in Soviet Georgia during the Cold War when it was largely abandoned in the West. Because of his progressive thinking, tireless activities, and close collaborations with many foreign scientists, including d'Herelle, Eliava became a victim of Stalin's regime in 1937, declared an "Enemy of the People" and executed. Most photographs and documents belonging to Eliava were destroyed by the Committee for State Security (Komitet gosudarstvennoi bezopasnosti), so it is difficult to ascertain many of the details of his life, and his scientific activities are largely unknown. His memory was restored only after the reassessment of the outcomes of the Great Terror and Stalin's regime in later periods. In this article, we bring the remarkable but little-known story of Giorgi Eliava to a wide readership and thus pay tribute to his talent and his dedication to science, and celebrate his contributions to phage research and phage therapy.

Governance, expertise, and the 'culture of care': The changing constitutions of laboratory animal research in Britain, 1876-2000.

This article examines why early twenty-first century animal research governance in Britain foregrounds the 'culture of care' as its key problem. It adopts a historical perspective to understand why the regulation of animal research became primarily a problem of 'culture', a term firmly associated with the social relations of animal research, at this time and not before. Drawing on the theoretical insights of Sheila Jasanoff, Stephen Hilgartner and others, we contrast the British regulatory framework under the Cruelty to Animals Act (1876), which established statutory regulation of animal research for the first time in the world, with its successor the Animals (Scientific Procedures) Act 1986 (ASPA), in an attempt to chart two closely related yet distinct 'constitutions' of animal research each shaped by a historically situated sociotechnical imaginary. Across this longue durée, many concerns remained consistent yet inevitably, as the biomedical sciences transformed in scale and scope, new concerns emerged. Animal care, at least as far as it entailed a commitment to the prevention of animal suffering, was a prominent feature of animal research governance across the period. However, a concern for the culture and social relations of animal research emerged only in the latter half of the twentieth century. We account for this change primarily through a gradual distribution of responsibility for animal research from a single coherent community with broadly shared expertise ('scientists' with experience of animal research) to a diversified community of multiple experience and skillsets which included, importantly, a more equitable inclusion of animal welfare as a form of expertise with direct relevance to animal research. We conclude that animal research governance could only become conceived as a problem of 'culture' and thus social relations when responsibility for care and animal welfare was distributed across a differentiated community, in which diverse forms of expertise were required for the practice of humane animal research.

Creature features: The lively narratives of bacteriophages in Soviet biology and medicine.

The term 'bacteriophage' (devourer of bacteria) was coined by Félix d'Herelle in 1917 to describe both the phenomenon of spontaneous destruction of bacterial cultures and an agent responsible. Debates about the nature of bacteriophages raged in the 1920s and 1930s, and there were extensive attempts to use the phenomenon to fight infections. Whereas it eventually became a crucial tool for molecular biology, therapeutic uses of 'phage' declined sharply in the West after World War II, but persisted in the Soviet Union, particularly Georgia. Increasingly isolated from Western medical research, Soviet scientists developed their own metaphors of 'phage', its nature and action, and communicated them to their peers, medical professionals, and potential patients. In this article, I explore four kinds of narrative that shaped Soviet phage research: the mystique of bacteriophages in the 1920s and 1930s; animated accounts and military metaphors in the 1940s; Lysenkoist notions on bacteriophages as a phase in bacterial development; and the retrospective allocation of credit for the discovery of the bacteriophage during the Cold War. Whereas viruses have been largely seen as barely living, phage narratives consistently featured heroic liveliness or 'animacy', which framed the growing consensus on its viral nature. Post-war narratives, shaped by the Lysenkoist movement and the campaigns against adulation of the West, had political power-although many microbiologists remained sceptical, they had to frame their critique within the correct language if they wanted to be published. The dramatic story of bacteriophage research in the Soviet Union is a reminder of the extent to which scientific narratives can be shaped by politics, but it also highlights the diversity of strategies and alternative interpretations possible within those constraints.

Animal research nexus: a new approach to the connections between science, health and animal welfare.

Animals used in biological research and testing have become integrated into the trajectories of modern biomedicine, generating increased expectations for and connections between human and animal health. Animal research also remains controversial and its acceptability is contingent on a complex network of relations and assurances across science and society, which are both formally constituted through law and informal or assumed. In this paper, we propose these entanglements can be studied through an approach that understands animal research as a nexus spanning the domains of science, health and animal welfare. We introduce this argument through, first, outlining some key challenges in UK debates around animal research, and second, reviewing the way nexus concepts have been used to connect issues in environmental research. Third, we explore how existing social sciences and humanities scholarship on animal research tends to focus on different aspects of the connections between scientific research, human health and animal welfare, which we suggest can be combined in a nexus approach. In the fourth section, we introduce our collaborative research on the animal research nexus, indicating how this approach can be used to study the history, governance and changing sensibilities around UK laboratory animal research. We suggest the attention to complex connections in nexus approaches can be enriched through conversations with the social sciences and medical humanities in ways that deepen appreciation of the importance of path-dependency and contingency, inclusion and exclusion in governance and the affective dimension to research. In conclusion, we reflect on the value of nexus thinking for developing research that is interdisciplinary, interactive and reflexive in understanding how accounts of the histories and current relations of animal research have significant implications for how scientific practices, policy debates and broad social contracts around animal research are being remade today.

Between mice and sheep: Biotechnology, agricultural science and animal models in late-twentieth century Edinburgh.

In this paper, we investigate the ways in which a group of scientists in Edinburgh worked across mice and sheep during the last quarter of the twentieth century. With this local episode, we show the utility of an interspecies perspective to investigate recent historical transformations in the life sciences. We argue that the emergence of animal biotechnology was the result of interactions between neoliberal policymakers, science administrators, molecular biologists, agricultural breeders, and the laboratory and farm organisms with which they worked. During the early 1980s, all these actors believed that the exportation of genetic engineering techniques from mice to farm animals would lead to more effective breeding programmes in the agricultural sciences. However, the circulation of people, money, expertise and infrastructures that the experiments required, as well as the practical constraints of working with mice and sheep, resisted a simple scaling-up from one organism to the other. This displaced the goals of the Edinburgh scientists from the production of transgenic sheep to stem cell research and human regenerative medicine. We account for this unexpected shift by looking at the interplay between science policy and its implementation via collective action and bench work across different organisms. The emergence of animal biotechnology in Edinburgh also provides historiographical insights on the birth of Dolly the sheep and, more generally, on the interactions between the molecular and the reproductive sciences at the fall of the twentieth century.

Tinkering with genes and embryos: the multiple invention of transgenic mice c. 1980.

Genetically modified or 'transgenic' mice are a routine experimental tool in biomedical research, commonly produced by injecting DNA into one-cell embryos. These animals were independently invented in 1980 by multiple university groups in the United States and Europe that combined expertise in mouse developmental biology and recombinant DNA techniques, or 'genetic engineering'. In this article, I examine this multiple invention and argue that research strategies, experimental practices, and funding arrangements that led to transgenic mice are best described as tinkering. These creative and speculative endeavors, combined with partial knowledge of what was happening in competing laboratories, created a fruitful atmosphere for research which led to the multiple invention. The tinkering was, however, underpinned by infrastructures that were crucial to success, some long established, such as mouse supply or embryological tools, and some emerging, such as the informal exchange of isolated genes.

An Alternative Cure: The Adoption and Survival of Bacteriophage Therapy in the USSR, 1922-1955.

Felix D'Herelle coined the term bacteriophage in 1917 to characterize a hypothetical viral agent responsible for the mysterious phenomenon of rapid bacterial death. While the viral nature of the "phage" was only widely accepted in the 1940s, attempts to use the phenomenon in treating infections started early. After raising hopes in the interwar years, by 1945 phage therapy had been abandoned almost entirely in the West, until the recent revival of interest in response to the crisis of antibiotic resistance. The use of phage therapy, however, persisted within Soviet medicine, especially in Georgia. This article explains the adoption and survival of phage therapy in the USSR. By focusing on the Tbilisi Institute of Microbiology, Epidemiology and Bacteriophage (now the Eliava Institute), I argue that bacteriophage research appealed to Soviet scientists because it offered an ecological model for understanding bacterial infection. In the 1930s, phage therapy grew firmly imbedded within the infrastructure of Soviet microbiological institutes. During the Second World War, bacteriophage preparations gained practical recognition from physicians and military authorities. At the dawn of the Cold War, the growing scientific isolation of Soviet science protected phage therapy from the contemporary western critiques, and the ecological program of research into bacteriophages continued in Georgia.

Cuts and the cutting edge: British science funding and the making of animal biotechnology in 1980s Edinburgh.

The Animal Breeding Research Organisation in Edinburgh (ABRO, founded in 1945) was a direct ancestor of the Roslin Institute, celebrated for the cloning of Dolly the sheep. After a period of sustained growth as an institute of the Agricultural Research Council (ARC), ABRO was to lose most of its funding in 1981. This decision has been absorbed into the narrative of the Thatcherite attack on science, but in this article I show that the choice to restructure ABRO pre-dated major government cuts to agricultural research, and stemmed from the ARC's wish to prioritize biotechnology in its portfolio. ABRO's management embraced this wish and campaigned against the cuts based on a promise of biotechnological innovation, shifting its focus from farm animal genetics to the production of recombinant pharmaceuticals in sheep milk. By tracing interaction between government policies, research council agendas and local strategies, I show how novel research programmes such as genetic modification could act as a lifeline for struggling institutions.