July 23, 2013
Stressed people can lose a marble or two, stressed cells lose a chromosome instead.
Sometimes the pressures and stresses of everyday life can make some people go a little crazy…they lose a few of their marbles. The same thing can happen to a cell too. The only difference is that instead of losing their marbles, cells can lose their chromosomes!
There are all sorts of mechanisms in place to make sure that a cell has just the right number of chromosomes. Still, sometimes all these systems fail and a chromosome is lost. This can be catastrophic for a cell and, as an important part of cancer, catastrophic for the whole body too.
Given how important having the right number of chromosomes is, it is surprising how little we know about what makes a particular chromosome more likely to fly the coop. Kumaran and coworkers set out to change this in their new study in PLOS ONE.
First off, they showed that some chromosomes in S. cerevisiae are indeed more likely to be lost than other ones and that there was a surprisingly wide range of stabilities. For example, chromosomes XIII and XIV were thousands of times more stable than chromosome III.
One key factor in stability was chromosome size—the smaller the chromosome the more likely it was to be lost. But chromosome III showed that size was not the whole story. It was five times more likely to be lost than the smallest chromosome.
The authors next set out to determine what about chromosome III made it so flighty. By creating a hybrid of chromosomes III and IX, they were able to show that there was no single site that made chromosome III so unstable. They were also able to rule out the idea that HML, HMR, and the MAT locus made chromosome III more likely to be lost.
They next focused on the centromere because it is such an important player in chromosome segregation. They created a series of plasmids using the centromeres from chromosomes III, IX, XII, XIV, and XV and found that the ones from chromosome III and chromosome XV were around 5-fold less stable than the other chromosomes. While they do not have a good explanation for why chromosome III and XV fared the same in their assay, the result did suggest that at least part of the instability of chromosome III could be explained by its centromere.
As a final experiment, they determined the frequency of chromosome loss in mad2 deletion mutants. They did this because MAD2 is involved in the spindle checkpoint and so is a key mediator of chromosome stability. They found that deleting this gene significantly increased the loss of other chromosomes, but chromosome III was 3-6 fold less affected by the loss of MAD2. It was almost as if the centromere of chromosome III was already somewhat compromised for its interaction with the spindle.
The authors aren’t sure yet how chromosome III got to be so unstable. It could be that random mutations just made its centromere less effective. But another interesting possibility is that it might be under selective pressure. Carrying the mating type loci, chromosome III could be considered to be equivalent to a sex chromosome in larger eukaryotes, and we know that those chromosomes are under different evolutionary constraints from other chromosomes. Maybe S. cerevisiae just can’t take the pressure!
by D. Barry Starr, Ph.D., Director of Outreach Activities, Stanford Genetics
Categories: Research Spotlight
Tags: chromosome stability, Saccharomyces cerevisiae
July 18, 2013
The Locus Summary pages of 147 DNA-binding transcription factors (TFs; retrieve the list) now include a new tabbed page, Regulation. This page contains information on the regulatory targets of the TF, its binding sites, and its domains and motifs, as well as a free-text paragraph summarizing its biological context. Take a look at a brief video, below, that explains the different kinds of data found on the Regulation tab. In addition to viewing these data page by page, you can download them all using SGD’s data search and retrieval tool, YeastMine. Click on “Regulation” in the YeastMine menu bar to view the predefined templates for regulation data searches.
New Regulation Data at SGD from yeastgenome on Vimeo.
Categories: New Data, Website changes
July 11, 2013
You don’t have to be a scientist to get the message that oxidation is bad and antioxidants are good. Just go to the vitamin aisle of your local supermarket, or listen to the ads on late-night TV. You’ll quickly find out that oxidation caused by free radicals is the reason for aging, and antioxidants are the fountain of youth. Of course you shouldn’t believe everything you hear…
It ain’t the rust that will get you, it’s the engine breaking down.
Things just aren’t that clear when you take a good hard look at aging. Yes, oxidation happens, but there actually isn’t solid experimental proof that it causes aging. In mice, this connection has not panned out at all: lowering the ability to sop up oxidants, by knocking out an antioxidant enzyme, does not shorten the mouse’s life.
In a recent eLife paper, joint first authors Brandes and Tienson and their coworkers used our favorite experimental subject, Saccharomyces cerevisiae, to see if oxidation is a cause or just a consequence of aging. They generated a ton of data about oxidation during aging and did not find any evidence for causation. Instead they came to the surprising conclusion that the trigger for aging may actually be a sudden drop in the levels of the coenzyme NADPH.
The first step, published previously by this group, was to come up with a very sensitive assay for protein oxidation. The amino acid cysteine can act as a sensor for levels of oxidation, as its sulfur-containing thiol group can be oxidized and reduced. Their technique, known as OxICAT, detects the ratio of reduced to oxidized thiol groups on cysteine residues for individual proteins. They can do this for hundreds of proteins at the same time.
In the current study, they looked at the oxidation state of cysteine residues in about 300 different proteins and also measured the levels of several different metabolites related to the redox state of the cell. All of these data were collected over time in aging yeast cells, both under normal conditions and under conditions simulating caloric restriction or starvation. These last conditions were included because a lower-calorie diet has been shown to slow down aging, in yeast as well as in animals.
Oxidation of proteins definitely did increase over time. But if oxidation were the cause of cell death, you would expect that it would increase steadily and at some maximum point, the cells would die. Surprisingly, that didn’t happen.
Instead, different groups of proteins were oxidized with different kinetics. The most sensitive proteins (about 10% of the set that they studied) were oxidized 48 hours before the cells started to lose viability. This set included some conserved proteins that are important in maintaining oxidation-reduction balance in the cell, such as the thioredoxin reductase Trr1p.
But it wasn’t only those especially sensitive proteins that were oxidized. In a second wave of oxidation, almost all the remaining proteins (80%) were oxidized at 24 hours before death. And even with so many proteins oxidized the cells were still metabolically active, with ATP levels near normal. So massive oxidation did not equal instant death for these cells.
As predicted, a low-calorie diet slowed down the whole process. The pattern looked a lot like it did in cells on a normal diet, but there was more time between the waves of oxidation and before the end of viability.
The authors also looked at what happened to different metabolites during aging. One key metabolite is the coenzyme NADPH: it donates electrons to the thioredoxin system that helps balance oxidation and reduction. They found that even before any changes in oxidation are detectable, levels of NADPH decrease very suddenly. The authors speculate that this decrease starts the collapse in redox potential that ends in the death of the cell. The oxidation of protein thiols is an effect rather than a cause, and could actually be a way for the cell to sense its redox state and possibly regulate it. NADPH levels have been seen to decrease in aging rats as well, suggesting that this could be a universal part of the aging process.
The results of this study are too voluminous to describe fully here, but they raise a lot of intriguing questions. Some proteins never got oxidized – what protected them? Are NADPH levels really the trigger for aging, and if so, what causes the sudden decrease? Is oxidation of cysteines actually part of a sensory mechanism? And if that’s true, would preventing oxidation really be such a good thing? This may be another good reason to turn off late-night TV.
by Maria Costanzo, Ph.D., Senior Biocurator, SGD
Categories: Research Spotlight
Tags: aging, oxidation, redox, Saccharomyces cerevisiae
July 09, 2013
SGD now provides links to LoQate (the localization and quantitation atlas of the yeast proteome) from the Protein Information section of the Locus Summary Pages. The LoQate database provides localization and abundance data for 5300 yeast proteins at single-cell resolution under three different stress conditions: DTT, H2O2, and nitrogen starvation (Breker et al, 2013, J Cell Biol. 200(6), 839-850). Thanks to Maya Schuldiner for helping us set up the links.
Categories: New Data, Website changes
July 02, 2013
When Nik Wallenda recently made his incredible tightrope walk over a 1500 foot-deep gorge, the attachment of the cable he walked on was critical. If that had failed, it would have been a very unhappy ending for Nik.
If the rope pulls away from the side of the gorge, this tightrope walker is in trouble. The same thing is true if the kinetochore pulls away from a chromosome.
Something equally dramatic can happen in a cell. If the attachment of spindle microtubules to chromosomes during cell division fails, then the chromosomes don’t end up in the right place. When this happens, the cell can end up dead, or even worse, cancerous. This is as bad as falling off a tightrope without a net!
In a cell, the chromosome is attached to the spindle with something called the kinetochore. It is like the spike driven into the side of the gorge the tightrope walker is going over. One end is attached to the chromosome (the side of the gorge) and the other is attached to the spindle (the rope that is tied to the spike).
This is where the analogy ends though…a kinetochore is way more complicated than a metal spike. It is a huge, multi-protein complex with lots of specialized parts. The way in which the whole complex assembles still isn’t completely understood.
In a new paper in GENETICS, Akiyoshi and coworkers unraveled a bit of the mystery behind it. They found that phosphorylation by a highly conserved protein kinase known as Aurora B (Ipl1p in S. cerevisiae) of one kinetochore subunit, Dsn1p, provides some of the glue that holds the structure together. More specifically, they found that phosphorylated Dsn1p does a better job at keeping inner kinetochore proteins attached to the complex. It drives the spike deeper into the gorge.
The researchers mutated two residues in Dsn1p that are sites for Ipl1p phosphorylation. They mutated one or both to alanine, which prevents phosphorylation, or to aspartic acid, which mimics the phosphorylated state. They found that preventing phosphorylation of these sites loosened the complex and keeping them “phosphorylated” tightened it.
First, to try to look at what happens when Dsn1p isn’t phosphorylated by Ipl1p, they mutated the two sites to alanine. Either site could be mutated with no apparent effects, but mutating both was lethal. Clearly these sites are doing something!
The researchers got around this lethality issue by mutating a third site in Dsn1p. This site is a target for phosphorylation by a different kinase, Cdk kinase (Cdc28p). The idea is that preventing phosphorylation by Ipl1p makes Dsn1p unstable, but then preventing phosphorylation by Cdc28p can stabilize the mutant protein.
Now that they had a living yeast strain in which Dsn1p wasn’t phosphorylated by Ipl1p, they could look to see what was different about the kinetochore in this mutant. When they pulled down the mutant Dsn1p using antibody and a Flag-tag, it brought down normal levels of outer kinetochore proteins but reduced levels of inner kinetochore proteins. So this suggested that Ipl1p phosphorylation promotes interactions between Dsn1p and inner kinetochore proteins.
Supporting this idea, an ipl1 mutant that phosphorylated Dsn1p to a lower extent showed lower-than-wild-type levels of inner kinetochore proteins associated with Dsn1p. And, when they looked at a mutant where those Dsn1p residues were changed to aspartic acid, mimicking constant phosphorylation, higher levels of inner kinetochore proteins were pulled down. All of this evidence, and more, points to Ipl1p phosphorylation of Dsn1p as critical for attachment of inner kinetochore proteins to the kinetochore complex.
In yeast there is just one Aurora kinase, and Dsn1p is just one of its substrates. In human cells there are multiple versions of Aurora, and they are implicated in cancer development. Clearly, yeast will be a helpful model in understanding all the details of how Aurora influences kinetochore structure and chromosome segregation. And that will be a much more impressive and useful feat than a tightrope walk!
by Maria Costanzo, Ph.D., Senior Biocurator, SGD
Categories: Research Spotlight, Yeast and Human Disease
Tags: Aurora kinase, kinetochore, Saccharomyces cerevisiae
June 26, 2013
S. cerevisiae would be the life of a fraternity party. With its high alcohol tolerance, it could win every beer drinking contest. And if the party ran out of alcohol, it could make lots more!
Like a barfly before his liver gives out, the yeast S. cerevisiae can tolerate incredibly high levels of ethanol. But unlike the town drunk, S. cerevisiae uses this skill to its own advantage.
In the wild, this yeast ferments sugars to flood the local environment with alcohol. The end result is that it does just fine but any nearby microorganisms are killed.
Humans also take advantage of this unique property of S. cerevisiae. Not only does it allow us to brew beer and ferment grapes into wine without worrying too much about bacterial contamination, but it also helps us generate ethanol as a biofuel. What a cool and useful little beast!
Given how important this property is for both yeast and us, it is perhaps surprising how little we know about how S. cerevisiae pulls this off. A new study out in PLOS Genetics by Pais and coworkers sets out to rectify this situation.
The study yielded a number of interesting findings. It might seem obvious that an organism that can make a lot of ethanol should able to grow in the high-ethanol environment that it created. However, by looking at these characteristics in 68 different S. cerevisiae strains, the authors found that the ability to produce ethanol was at least partially separate at the genetic level from the ability to thrive in it. Pais and coworkers called the first process “high ethanol accumulation capacity” and the second “tolerance of cell proliferation to high ethanol levels.”
Second, they identified DNA differences in three different genes – ADE1, URA3, and KIN3 – that all work together to give certain strains of yeast their high ethanol accumulation capacity. The most interesting of these three is KIN3.
Kin3p is a protein kinase that has a role in DNA repair. Since ethanol is a known mutagen, it may be that the DNA differences in the KIN3 gene make its protein better at DNA repair, rescuing the cell from the DNA damage from high ethanol levels.
The authors found these genes as part of a larger study to identify at the genetic level why some strains of S. cerevisiae did better than others in ethanol. They focused on two strains, CBS1585 and BY710. CBS1585 is a sake yeast strain that can tolerate and grow in high levels of ethanol while BY710 is a laboratory strain that doesn’t do well with either (although still better than most any other beast out there in nature!).
Yeast holds its liquor way better than this guy.
They created diploids using these two strains, sporulated them into haploids, and then screened these haploids for their ability to deal with high levels of alcohol. As would be predicted from their survey of the 68 strains, the haploids could be grouped into three distinct but overlapping pools:
1) High ethanol accumulation capacity in the absence of cell proliferation
2) Cell proliferation at high ethanol levels
3) Poor tolerance and growth in high ethanol
The authors then used pooled-segregant whole-genome sequence analysis to identify the DNA regions critical to the first two functions. Basically this is just what it sounds like. They isolated DNA from the three pools and looked for differences in pools 1 and 2 that weren’t in 3. (OK that is dangerously simplified, but that is the gist of it.)
This is how they identified ADE1, URA3, and KIN3 as important in high ethanol accumulation capacity. We will have to wait for them to pinpoint the important genes in the regions they identified for pool 2 to begin to understand why some strains can proliferate in the presence of high alcohol concentrations.
Once they have identified all of the genes that make certain yeast strains so good at dealing with alcohol, we may be able to engineer a yeast that can make more ethanol for less money. We can make a great little alcohol producer even better!
by D. Barry Starr, Ph.D., Director of Outreach Activities, Stanford Genetics
Categories: Research Spotlight
Tags: biofuel, brewing, ethanol tolerance, Saccharomyces cerevisiae
June 20, 2013
We all have certain things we can’t live without. But what’s essential to one person may be completely trivial to another. For example, a teenager who can’t live without his video games is fine without that antique tea set, while the opposite may be true for grandma.
Just like all of the pieces of this set are essential to grandma, so too are all of the proteins in an essential complex usually essential to yeast (and maybe to us too!).
In a new article in Genome Biology and Evolution, Ryan and coworkers find that the same holds true for different yeast species. One gene that is essential in one yeast is dispensable in another. And furthermore, they tend to be essential or nonessential in sets. Just like grandma’s tea set and the teenager’s games.
It’s been seen in S. cerevisiae that the genes that encode the proteins in a complex tend to be either mostly essential or mostly nonessential. It is like the teapot and the cups and saucers all being essential to grandma or all being nonessential to the teenager. This is called modular essentiality.
Ryan and coworkers found that if some protein complex is essential in one yeast, most or all of those genes will be essential in that species. On the other hand, if that protein complex is dispensable in a different yeast, then most or all of those genes will be nonessential. The genes encoding the entire complex flip together from essential to nonessential – again, just like the tea set. It isn’t as if one of the tea cups happens to stay essential when the teenager gets ahold of the set!
To do this work, Ryan and coworkers started out by looking at S. cerevisiae. As all of us here at SGD know, this was an excellent choice! But not just because we work on it…
Because the S. cerevisiae genome sequence has been available for quite a while, we know which genes are essential to life, which genes interact genetically, and which proteins interact physically with each other. We also have a very good list of the protein complexes that exist in yeast and what their subunits are.
Ryan and coworkers used updated data to confirm that modular essentiality exists in S. cerevisiae. Most of the proteins in an essential complex tend to come from essential genes and most of the proteins in nonessential complexes come from nonessential genes. There is very little overlap…the tea set does not often contain a video game!
Next the authors asked whether this modular essentiality is found in other species too. At the moment, Schizosaccharomyces pombe, or fission yeast, is the only other eukaryote with complete data on the essentiality of genes. Although it’s also a single-celled yeast, S. pombe is about as far away from S. cerevisiae as you can get and still be a yeast. The two are thought to have diverged as much as 400 million years ago.
Even though it is so different, S. pombe also shows modular essentiality. And using an incomplete set of data from knockout mice, the authors see a similar pattern! So it looks like modular essentiality is at least conserved across fungi, and may be universal.
Next they asked if complexes that have flipped from essential to nonessential over time still maintain their modular essentiality. Do all the tea cups become nonessential, or just some of them?
When grandma tidies up the video games, none of them will seem important to her. The same thing happens when a complex switches from essential to nonessential as a species evolves.
Most (83%) of the genes that are present as one-to-one orthologs in both yeasts are either essential in both or nonessential in both. Ryan and coworkers focused on the other 17%, where a gene was essential in one species but not in the other.
In the cases where essentiality is “flipped” between the species, whole protein complexes tend to flip as a unit. The subunits of a complex that is nonessential in budding yeast are mostly nonessential, while the subunits of the analogous complex in fission yeast are mostly essential.
An example of this is the large subunit of the mitochondrial ribosome. Mitochondrial translation is optional for S. cerevisiae, but obligatory for S. pombe. In keeping with this, almost all the proteins that make up the S. cerevisiae large mitochondrial ribosomal subunit are nonessential. In S. pombe, the situation is flipped.
So the essentiality of a complex mirrors the lifestyle of its owner, just like the teenager and his grandmother. The two yeasts, with their different lifestyles, place different importance on the mitochondrial ribosome. This wasn’t a big surprise, since this lifestyle difference was already known. But other complexes that are flipped between the species may point to things that we don’t yet know about their physiology.
These results support the idea that modular essentiality is universal, which would mean that in various organisms we can expect that mutants in subunits of a complex will share the same phenotype, disease association, and drug sensitivity. Obviously there are important implications here for antifungal drug design or for disease treatment: if you want to stop a complex from working, any of its subunits (or perhaps several at the same time) might prove to be good targets.
But another bigger point is how much we can learn from a deep understanding of an organism’s genome. By teasing apart what is essential and what isn’t we can learn a lot about the beast we’re studying. And someday, maybe a lot about ourselves.
by Maria Costanzo, Ph.D., Senior Biocurator, SGD
Categories: Research Spotlight
Tags: essentiality, evolution, Saccharomyces cerevisiae
June 10, 2013
SGD periodically sends out its newsletter to colleagues designated as contacts in SGD. This Summer 2013 newsletter is also available online. If you would like to receive the SGD newsletter in the future please use the Colleague Submission/Update form to let us know.
Categories: Newsletter
June 05, 2013
Like milk or eggs, most cells with linear chromosomes have a shelf life. Each time these cells divide, they lose a little off the end of their chromosomes. Eventually, too much is lost and the cells crap out. Or, to use a more scientific term, they become senescent.
Cells have lots of ways to keep their telomeres long and extend their “cell-by” dates.
But this is not the fate of every cell. Some cells, like those that go on to become sperm or eggs, use a reverse transcriptase called telomerase to extend their telomeres as part of their normal life cycle. And they aren’t the only ones. Around 85% of cancers hijack the telomerase and use it for their own nefarious ends.
The other 15% of cancers use a variety of different mechanisms to keep their telomeres from getting too short (Cesare and Reddel, 2010). All these different ways are lumped together in a single category called alternative lengthening of telomeres or ALT. The telomeres are lengthened in these cells by recombination with other telomeres, either those on other chromosomes or those that exist as shed, extrachromasomal bits.
While telomere extension may keep cells alive, it can sometimes be a double-edged sword. A double stranded DNA break is usually recognized as DNA damage. However, if the break happens near a telomere seed (a sequence that looks like a telomere), then the DNA damage response can be suppressed and the end can be extended into a new telomere, in a process called chromosome healing. But now the cell could be in trouble, with new, partial chromosomes being created and getting pulled this way and that.
In a new study out in GENETICS, Lai and Heierhorst decided to investigate whether chromosome healing happens in yeast cells that have stayed alive because of ALT. What they found was that chromosome healing at telomere seeds was suppressed in these post-senescence survivors.
They created these ALT dependent, post-senescence survivors from an est2 mutant strain that lacked the catalytic subunit of telomerase. Without telomerase, the only way for these cells to survive is by using ALT.
In the first experiment, they looked at whether the post-senescence survivors could create a new telomere by chromosome healing. The authors used a galactose inducible HO endonuclease to create a double stranded break near an 81 base pair sequence known to be a telomere seed sequence in wild type.
Broken DNA usually signals cells to pause the cell cycle until the damage is repaired. This is known as the DNA damage checkpoint. During chromosome healing in wild type, this checkpoint is suppressed so the chromosome break isn’t recognized as DNA damage.
In the post-senescence survivors, even after 21 hours there was no evidence of a telomere forming. They didn’t suppress the DNA damage checkpoint either.
Lai and Heierhorst determined that these ALT-dependent cells could still repair a different break that was not near a telomere seed sequence. They just couldn’t repair the break at the telomere seed. And this wasn’t because the DNA damage checkpoint was active. When they prevented the checkpoint by using a rad53 mutant, the telomere still wasn’t repaired.
Instead, the post-senescence survivors eventually repaired the break by some other mechanism, generating lots of differing products in the process. When they repaired breaks at sites that were not telomere seeds, they were able to use homologous recombination. But homologous recombination was suppressed at the telomere seed site.
Since ALT is used in cancer cells, and happens most often in some of the least-curable types of cancer, whatever we can learn about the process in yeast is valuable. It may give us clues on how to change the expiration date of those cancer cells to “ASAP”.
by D. Barry Starr, Ph.D., Director of Outreach Activities, Stanford Genetics
Categories: Research Spotlight, Yeast and Human Disease
Tags: cancer, DNA damage checkpoint, Saccharomyces cerevisiae, telomere
May 29, 2013
A goldfish will swim faster through water than it will through gravy or Jell-O. And according to the results of a new study by Miermont and coworkers, it looks like the same may be true for proteins in a yeast cell.
Protein movement in an osmotically stressed cell is like a goldfish in Jell-O – mighty slow!
Now obviously the authors didn’t replace the insides of a yeast cell with gravy or Jell-O. Instead, they used severe osmotic stress to remove water from the cell, making the interior more viscous and the proteins more crowded.
The movement of a wide range of proteins within the cell slowed to a crawl in these shrunken cells. In fact, if the cell was subjected to enough stress, the proteins in the cell essentially stopped moving at all. This lack of movement wasn’t because the high osmotic stress had killed the yeast…they recovered just fine when put back into a more osmotically friendly environment.
The first case the authors looked at was the pathway that helps yeast respond to osmotic stress, the HOG pathway. Once a cell is subjected to osmotic stress, Hog1p is phosphorylated and translocated into the nucleus where it can then turn on the genes needed to respond to this environmental insult.
Miermont and coworkers traced the movement of Hog1p using a Hog1p-GFP fusion protein. At 1 M sorbitol, which subjects the cell to mild osmotic stress, this fusion protein was phosphorylated within two minutes and had reached the nucleus within five. There were already signs of cell shrinkage even under these mild conditions.
As sorbitol concentrations increased, the phosphorylation and nuclear localization took longer and longer to happen. At 1.8 M sorbitol, Hog1p-GFP didn’t reach maximum fluorescence in the nucleus until 55 minutes. At 2 M sorbitol and above, the cells were shrunken down to their minimal volume, which was 40% of their original size. Under those conditions, only 25% of cells had any nuclear fluorescence even after several hours.
The authors used fluorescence recovery after photobleaching (FRAP) to confirm that these effects were due to slowed protein movement. Basically they zapped a small portion of a cell to burn out the fluorescence of the Hog1p-GFP in that region and then timed how long it took fluorescing Hog1p-GFP from other parts of the cytoplasm to diffuse into that area. To prevent the complication of nuclear translocation in these experiments, they used a pbs2 mutant strain, in which the HOG pathway is blocked and Hog1p stays in the cytoplasm.
They found that fluorescence recovery took less than one second in normal media, about five seconds in 1 M sorbitol, and never happened at 2 M sorbitol. Clearly the protein’s movement was slowed with increasing osmotic pressure. But the effects weren’t permanent: once the cells were put back into normal media, the protein returned to its original kinetics.
The authors expanded their studies to look at proteins that shuttle between the nucleus and cytoplasm in other pathways, including Msn2p, Yap1p, Crz1p, and Mig1p, and obtained similar results. All four proteins took longer to reach the nucleus after being exposed to high osmotic stress. They also looked at other cellular processes where protein movement is critical, such as endocytosis, and again found that increased osmotic stress led to slower moving proteins.
So it looks like molecular crowding can definitely slow down protein movement and affect how a cell functions. For example, the time it takes to respond to environmental stimuli could be significantly slowed, affecting the cell’s chances for survival. Since yeast cells in the wild encounter high-sugar environments (like rotting grapes), their protein density must be regulated so that they can get through stresses like this. They are ultimately much better adapted than that goldfish in the bowl of Jell-O.
by D. Barry Starr, Ph.D., Director of Outreach Activities, Stanford Genetics
Categories: Research Spotlight
Tags: osmotic stress, protein crowding, Saccharomyces cerevisiae