John Rinn
Making it to the Stanley Cup Finals of Science
Science is something you do over and over, and you think, ‘What if I did this on top of that?’ You make creative leaps and you don’t even know where it comes from.
In the ultra-competitive and high-risk field of genetics research, Dr. John Rinn says he makes his mark by “thinking like a 10-year old.” Rinn’s humble self-assessment refers in part to his fanatical love for hockey when he was growing up in Minnesota: even by himself, he would play for hours on end, pretending he was in the Stanley Cup Finals and making that game-winning goal.
Today, Rinn applies the same level of intensity to his research in the pathology lab at Harvard Medical School, where he zealously absorbs himself in RNA molecules until someone calls him in for dinner.
“I’m just fascinated about what these guys are up to,” he says.
By “these guys,” Rinn means the formerly obscure lincRNA (large intergenic non-coding RNA) molecules that he discovered in the human genome, earning him the distinction of being named by Popular Science magazine as one of the “Brilliant 10” young geniuses shaking up science today. LincRNA works in the cell to guide proteins to their ultimate destinations—a finding that might provide medical scientists with critical clues about cancer growth.
Rinn made his discovery when large non-coding RNAs weren’t getting much respect in the research world, but he says his unique focus is what has made all the difference—while everyone else was looking at the entire human genome, he honed in on one particular part of it. And he kept at it until something clicked.
His capacity for deep intellectual study was not always apparent, Rinn says, especially in his high school years: “After school, I’d go skateboarding for two or three hours and practice the same things over and over again until I didn’t have to think about it anymore. When I finally started to apply myself to school, I applied that same rigor and discipline.”
His academic malaise seemingly disappeared as he began to study chemistry in college.
“Chemistry is like skateboarding,” Rinn says. Most people would disagree with this statement, but Rinn insists that the root training behind any endeavor is the same. If we do something enough times, we will reach a point where there is almost no thinking involved. Rinn says that’s when abstract thought emerges and creativity becomes possible: “If you practice a trick in skateboarding over and over again until it become natural, it takes on its own entity. When you do a 360 off a jump enough times, you become confident, and then you twist it and lean it and take it someplace new.”
Rinn applied his successful skateboarding techniques to reading his undergraduate chemistry textbook: “I read the chapters, and then I went back and made outlines, and then I made note cards until all these turns and other things were coming naturally.”
It’s a formula that works for him, particularly in the world of science, where he estimates that 90 percent of research efforts don’t pan out. “You’ve got to keep at it to find that 10 percent,” Rinn says. “Science is something you do over and over, and you think, What if I did this on top of that? You make creative leaps and you don’t even know where it comes from.”
Underlying Rinn’s praise for dogged persistence and rote practice is an urge to sweep away chaos and release the flow of ingenuity—on the ice, in the skate park or in the lab. Ideas don’t just pop up for no reason, he insists, but because we are constantly thinking about something, approaching it from different angles.
Keeping the flow in the lab is especially important, Rinn says. To this end, he takes his lab workers on research retreats to generate a congenial, lighthearted atmosphere that is conducive to in-depth exploration. They work hard and play hard. “In the lab,” he says, “everybody has their own project, but there’s enough synergy and overlap that they have to come to together at some point. Having fun makes that part easier.”
How do a bunch of chemists amuse themselves? “We make fun of bad data.”
Outside the lab, though, things get serious. The task of presenting research findings to a skeptical scientific community and the investors who fund research makes good communication important. “When we present our work, people will attack it,” Rinn says.
All the more reason to be passionate about one’s labors. Rinn is not exactly sure where his passion comes from. But almost every day, he says, he wakes up with an immediate adrenalin jolt. “That adrenalin is inspired by the fact that I’m excited to get all these things done, to find a piece to a bigger puzzle.”
Plus, lincRNA molecules keep Rinn perpetually on his toes. You just never know what “these guys” are up to.
