China's State Council, the country's cabinet, issued an action plan on Thursday for the continuous improvement of air quality. Under the plan, China should boost the development of new energy and clean energy, while strictly and reasonably controlling coal consumption and prohibiting new steel capacity.

By 2025, it is expected that electricity should account for around 30 percent of total energy end-use consumption, and non-fossil energy consumption should reach around 20 percent, according to the action plan. It was released following the conclusion of the 28th UN Climate Change Conference (COP28) in Dubai last week, during which China's role in global climate governance was highlighted.

The country will also carry out caps on coal consumption while ensuring energy supply security, according to the plan.

It is expected that by 2025, coal consumption in the Beijing-Tianjin-Hebei region and neighboring areas as well as the Yangtze River Delta should drop by 10 percent and 5 percent compared with that of 2020, respectively. And the coal consumption in Fenwei Plain regions in Central China should report negative growth.

In addition to a ban on building new steel factories, Chinese authorities will also resolutely curb the blind launch of high-energy-consuming, high-emission, and low-level projects under the plan.

By 2025, the plan also aims to reduce PM 2.5 concentrations in Chinese cities at and above the prefectural level by 10 percent from 2020, and the annual ratio of days with heavy pollution and above should be within 1 percent. Emissions of nitric oxide and volatile organic compounds (VOCs) should also be reduced by 10 percent from 2020.

The plan marks another effort by China to fulfill its promise of carbon peaking and neutrality. China has committed to a "dual carbon" goal of reaching the peak of carbon emissions by 2030 and attaining carbon neutrality by 2060.

China's actions to address climate change have not only promoted the country's green and low-carbon development, but also made important contributions to addressing global climate change, analysts said.

Lately some customers in Beijing were "shocked" to hear that Daoxiangcun, a store that sells everyday snacks, would no longer be listed as a laozihao, or time-honored brand. Fortunately, it turned out that it was a same-named store in Tianjin, rather than the renowned store in Beijing, that would lose the honor. 

Together with the Tianjin Daoxiangcun, 54 other Chinese time-honored brand stores would be removed from the list of Chinese old and famous brands, including Xinluchun restaurant in Beijing, Laobanzhai restaurant in Shanghai, and Guanshengyuan store in Chongqing due to long-term poor operation, bankruptcy or loss of trademarks, according to a recent notice issued by China's Ministry of Commerce (MOC). 

China's time-honored brands refer to quality products, excellent techniques or reliable services that have been passed down through generations. With distinctive regional characteristics, most of them have been widely recognized in all sectors over 100 years. In 1991, more than 1,600 businesses were conferred with this title, and in 2006 and 2011, another 1,128 enterprises were added.

According to the MOC, this move aims to improve the protection and inheritance of time-honored brands and build a long-term mechanism for their innovation development, setting well-operated ones as standards and examples for other time-honored brands.

However, some of the brands have lost their advantages due to the changing times, while their standards have fallen. 

Tianjin Daoxiangcun, established in 1988, has a reputation for selling high-priced but poor-tasting pastries. Xinluchun restaurant in Beijing used to be well-known in the 1980s for serving savory steamed buns, which some Beijingers still miss. However, after it shifted to regular dishes, its business deteriorated. 

Like customers in Beijing, Shanghai residents were also dumbfounded by the removal of the popular and familiar restaurant Laobanzhai. While some expressed regret about the change, others consented saying, "Laobanzhai's environment, services and dishes no longer deserve its status." Some moaned that "short-sighted operators have ruined the business of their ancestors."

Established in 1905, Laobanzhai restaurant serves pastry and Huaiyang cuisine, known for its light and fresh flavor and intricate cooking techniques. It was listed as a time-honored brand in 2006. 

To respond to the quality of their services, the manager admitted that a few senior staffers have retired, which "may have caused some problems. But we are trying to improve our services, and at least the quality of the food we serve is guaranteed, and the variety is still popular." 

 "Now we are striving to reexamine ourselves," the manager said.

While sifting out the unqualified, quite a number of qualified businesses have remained on the list, among which the Daoxiangcun store in Beijing is a good example. 

First established in 1895, Beijing Daoxiangcun was the first store to sell dishes from southern China, including pastry, meat and special food for traditional Chinese festivals such as moon cakes as well as frozen food. In 1993, it was listed as a time-honored brand, and in 2004, it won the title of "famous Chinese brand" due to the good quality and reputation of its food and products. 

To protect time-honored brands, the list has been increasing instead of decreasing. In August, there were 238 old and famous brands from Beijing on the list with an average age of 140 years, an increase of 15 enterprises , including a traditional Chinese medicine company. Including the Capital Automobile Group, Beijing Tongren Optometry Store and Beijing Ruizhenhou Restaurant, they are part of the eighth batch of businesses on the list and cover more diverse sectors. 

Time-honored brands do not just represent the best of the business world, they also have profound cultural significance. 

Before a brand was set up, choosing the right name was a major priority as an auspicious name carries the great expectations of the owner of the business.  

Normally, owners selected names from famous verses in ancient Chinese literary works such as Dream of Red Mansion to pray for a thriving business, or to show their political aspirations such as jianhua, meaning "building the Chinese nation." 

Some entrepreneurs in southern China named their stores with a distinctive local style. A catering business in Suzhou, East China's Jiangsu Province, located in a typical waterside building was named Caizhizhai, or "Collecting Water Lilies." It also serves various, exquisitely made pastries that have been well-received all over the country.

Besides cultural connections, these businesses also uphold customer-centered principles. For instance, each season, Beijing Daoxiangcun will promote different foods to customers and remind them of Chinese traditions. 

These time-honored brands represent the best of traditional Chinese culture. Those who have remained on the list demonstrate their success in maintaining the businesses of their ancestors, the continuity of their products and services, and the inheritance of traditional Chinese culture. Those who have vanished must learn to catch up and adapt to the changing times. In this way, they can not only preserve their brands, but also do their bit for the protection of the traditional Chinese culture. 

Not too long ago, the internet was stationary. Most often, we’d browse the Web from a desktop computer in our living room or office. If we were feeling really adventurous, maybe we’d cart our laptop to a coffee shop. Looking back, those days seem quaint.

Today, the internet moves through our lives with us. We hunt Pokémon as we shuffle down the sidewalk. We text at red lights. We tweet from the bathroom. We sleep with a smartphone within arm’s reach, using the device as both lullaby and alarm clock. Sometimes we put our phones down while we eat, but usually faceup, just in case something important happens.
Our iPhones, Androids and other smartphones have led us to effortlessly adjust our behavior. Portable technology has overhauled our driving habits, our dating styles and even our posture. Despite the occasional headlines claiming that digital technology is rotting our brains, not to mention what it’s doing to our children, we’ve welcomed this alluring life partner with open arms and swiping thumbs.

Scientists suspect that these near-constant interactions with digital technology influence our brains. Small studies are turning up hints that our devices may change how we remember, how we navigate and how we create happiness — or not.
Somewhat limited, occasionally contradictory findings illustrate how science has struggled to pin down this slippery, fast-moving phenomenon. Laboratory studies hint that technology, and its constant interruptions, may change our thinking strategies. Like our husbands and wives, our devices have become “memory partners,” allowing us to dump information there and forget about it — an off-loading that comes with benefits and drawbacks. Navigational strategies may be shifting in the GPS era, a change that might be reflected in how the brain maps its place in the world. Constant interactions with technology may even raise anxiety in certain settings.

Yet one large study that asked people about their digital lives suggests that moderate use of digital technology has no ill effects on mental well-being.

The question of how technology helps and hinders our thinking is incredibly hard to answer. Both lab and observational studies have drawbacks. The artificial confines of lab experiments lead to very limited sets of observations, insights that may not apply to real life, says experimental psychologist Andrew Przybylski of the University of Oxford. “This is a lot like drawing conclusions about the effects of baseball on players’ brains after observing three swings in the batting cage.”

Observational studies of behavior in the real world, on the other hand, turn up associations, not causes. It’s hard to pull out real effects from within life’s messiness. The goal, some scientists say, is to design studies that bring the rigors of the lab to the complexities of real life, and then to use the resulting insights to guide our behavior. But that’s a big goal, and one that scientists may never reach.

Evolutionary neurobiologist Leah Krubitzer is comfortable with this scientific ambiguity. She doesn’t put a positive or negative value on today’s digital landscape. Neither good nor bad, it just is what it is: the latest iteration on the continuum of changing environments, says Krubitzer, of the University of California, Davis.

“I can tell you for sure that technology is changing our brains,” she says. It’s just that so far, no one knows what those changes mean.

Of course, nearly everything changes the brain. Musical training reshapes parts of the brain. Learning the convoluted streets of London swells a mapmaking structure in the brains of cabbies. Even getting a good night’s sleep changes the brain. Every aspect of our environment can influence brain and behaviors. In some ways, digital technology is no different. Yet some scientists suspect that there might be something particularly pernicious about digital technology’s grip on the brain.

“We are information-seeking creatures,” says neuroscientist Adam Gazzaley of the University of California, San Francisco. “We are driven to it in very powerful ways.” Today’s digital tools give us unprecedented exposure to information that doesn’t wait for you to seek it out; it seeks you out, he says. That pull is nearly irresistible.

Despite the many unanswered questions about whether our digital devices are influencing our brains and behaviors, and whether for good or evil, technology is galloping ahead. “We should have been asking ourselves [these sorts of questions] in the ’70s or ’80s,” Krubitzer says. “It’s too late now. We’re kind of closing the barn doors after the horses got out.”
Attention grabber
One way in which today’s digital technology is distinct from earlier advances (like landline telephones) is the sheer amount of time people spend with it. In just a decade, smartphones have saturated the market, enabling instant internet access to an estimated 2 billion people around the world. In one small study reported in 2015, 23 adults, ages 18 to 33, spent an average of five hours a day on their phones, broken up into 85 distinct daily sessions. When asked how many times they thought they used their phones, participants underestimated by half.

In a different study, Larry Rosen, a psychologist at California State University, Dominguez Hills, used an app to monitor how often college students unlocked their phones. The students checked their phones an average of 60 times a day, each session lasting about three to four minutes for a total of 220 minutes a day. That’s a lot of interruption, Rosen says.
Smartphones are “literally omnipresent 24-7, and as such, it’s almost like an appendage,” he says. And often, we are compelled to look at this new, alluring rectangular limb instead of what’s around us. “This device is really powerful,” Rosen says. “It’s really influencing our behavior. It’s changed the way we see the world.”

Technology does that. Printing presses, electricity, televisions and telephones all shifted people’s habits drastically, Przybylski says. He proposes that the furor over digital technology melting brains and crippling social lives is just the latest incarnation of the age-old fear of change. “You have to ask yourself, ‘Is there something magical about the power of an LCD screen?’ ” Przybylski says.

Yet some researchers suspect that there is something particularly compelling about this advance. “It just feels different. Computers and the internet and the cloud are embedded in our lives,” says psychologist Benjamin Storm of the University of California, Santa Cruz. “The scope of the amount of information we have at our fingertips is beyond anything we’ve ever experienced. The temptation to become really reliant on it seems to be greater.”

Memory outsourcing
Our digital reliance may encourage even more reliance, at least for memory, Storm’s work suggests. Sixty college undergraduates were given a mix of trivia questions — some easy, some hard. Half of the students had to answer the questions on their own; the other half were told to use the internet. Later, the students were given an easier set of questions, such as “What is the center of a hurricane called?” This time, the students were told they could use the internet if they wanted.

People who had used the internet initially were more likely to rely on internet help for the second, easy set of questions, Storm and colleagues reported online last July in Memory. “People who had gotten used to using the internet continued to do so, even though they knew the answer,” Storm says. This kind of overreliance may signal a change in how people use their memory. “No longer do we just rely on what we know,” he says.
That work builds on results published in a 2011 paper in Science . A series of experiments showed that people who expected to have access to the internet later made less effort to remember things . In this way, the internet has taken the place formerly filled by spouses who remember birthdays, grandparents who remember recipes and coworkers who remember the correct paperwork codes — officially known as “transactive memory partners.”
“We are becoming symbiotic with our computer tools,” Betsy Sparrow, then at Columbia University, and colleagues wrote in 2011. “The experience of losing our internet connection becomes more and more like losing a friend. We must remain plugged in to know what Google knows.”

That digital crutch isn’t necessarily a bad thing, Storm points out. Human memory is notoriously squishy, susceptible to false memories and outright forgetting. The internet, though imperfect, can be a resource of good information. And it’s not clear, he says, whether our memories are truly worse, or whether we perform at the same level, but just reach the answer in a different way.

“Some people think memory is absolutely declining as a result of us using technology,” he says. “Others disagree. Based on the current data, though, I don’t think we can really make strong conclusions one way or the other.”

The potential downsides of this memory outsourcing are nebulous, Storm says. It’s possible that digital reliance influences — and perhaps even weakens — other parts of our thinking. “Does it change the way we learn? Does it change the way we start to put information together, to build our own stories, to generate new ideas?” Storm asks. “There could be consequences that we’re not necessarily aware of yet.”

Research by Gazzaley and others has documented effects of interruptions and multitasking, which are hard to avoid with incessant news alerts, status updates and Instagrams waiting in our pockets. Siphoning attention can cause trouble for a long list of thinking skills, including short- and long-term memory, attention, perception and reaction time. Those findings, however, come from experiments in labs that ask a person to toggle between two tasks while undergoing a brain scan, for instance. Similar effects have not been as obvious for people going about their daily lives, Gazzaley says. But he is convinced that constant interruptions — the dings and buzzes, our own restless need to check our phones — are influencing our ability to think.

Making maps
Consequences of technology are starting to show up for another cognitive task — navigating, particularly while driving. Instead of checking a map and planning a route before a trip, people can now rely on their smartphones to do the work for them. Anecdotal news stories describe people who obeyed the tinny GPS voice that instructed them to drive into a lake or through barricades at the entrance of a partially demolished bridge. Our navigational skills may be at risk as we shift to neurologically easier ways to find our way, says cognitive neuroscientist Véronique Bohbot of McGill University in Montreal.

Historically, getting to the right destination required a person to have the lay of the land, a mental map of the terrain. That strategy takes more work than one that’s called a “response strategy,” the type of navigating that starts with an electronic voice command. “You just know the response — turn right, turn left, go straight. That’s all you know,” Bohbot says. “You’re on autopilot.”
A response strategy is easier, but it leaves people with less knowledge. People who walked through a town in Japan with human guides did a better job later navigating the same route than people who had walked with GPS as a companion, researchers have found.

Scientists are looking for signs that video games, which often expose people to lots of response-heavy situations, influence how people get around. In a small study, Bohbot and colleagues found that people who average 18 hours a week playing action video games such as Call of Duty navigated differently than people who don’t play the games. When tested on a virtual maze, players of action video games were more likely to use the simpler response learning strategy to make their way through, Bohbot and colleagues reported in 2015 in Proceedings of the Royal Society B.

That easier type of response navigation depends on the caudate nucleus, a brain area thought to be involved in habit formation and addiction. In contrast, nerve cells in the brain’s hippocampus help create mental maps of the world and assist in the more complex navigation. Some results suggest that people who use the response method have bigger caudate nuclei, and more brain activity there. Conversely, people who use spatial strategies that require a mental map have larger, busier hippocampi.

Those results on video game players are preliminary and show an association within a group that may share potentially confounding similarities. Yet it’s possible that getting into a habit of mental laxity may change the way people navigate. Digital technology isn’t itself to blame, Bohbot says. “It’s not the technology that’s necessarily good or bad for our brain. It’s how we use the technology,” she says. “We have a tendency to use it in the way that seems to be easiest for us. We’re not making the effort.”

Parts of the brain, including those used to navigate, have many jobs. Changing one aspect of brain function with one type of behavior might have implications for other aspects of life. A small study by Bohbot showed that people who navigate by relying on the addiction-related caudate nucleus smoke more cigarettes, drink more alcohol and are more likely to use marijuana than people who rely on the hippocampus. What to make of that association is still very much up in the air.

Sweating the smartphone
Other researchers are trying to tackle questions of how technology affects our psychological outlooks. Rosen and colleagues have turned up clues that digital devices have become a new source of anxiety for people.
In diabolical experiments, Cal State’s Rosen takes college students’ phones away, under the ruse that the devices are interfering with laboratory measurements of stress, such as heart rate and sweating. The phones are left on, but placed out of reach of the students, who are reading a passage. Then, the researchers start texting the students, who are forced to listen to the dings without being able to see the messages or respond. Measurements of anxiety spike, Rosen has found, and reading comprehension dwindles.

Other experiments have found that heavy technology users last about 10 minutes without their phones before showing signs of anxiety.

Fundamentally, an interruption in smartphone access is no different from those in the days before smartphones, when the landline rang as you were walking into the house with bags full of groceries, so you missed the call. Both situations can raise anxiety over a connection missed. But Rosen suspects that our dependence on digital technology causes these situations to occur much more often.

“The technology is magnificent,” he says. “Having said that, I think that this constant bombardment of needing to check in, needing to be connected, this feeling of ‘I can’t be disconnected, I can’t cut the tether for five minutes,’ that’s going to have a long-term effect.”

The question of whether digital technology is good or bad for people is nearly impossible to answer, but a survey of 120,000 British 15-year-olds (99.5 percent reported using technology daily) takes a stab at it. Oxford’s Przybylski and Netta Weinstein at Cardiff University in Wales have turned up hints that moderate use of digital technology — TV, computers, video games and smartphones — correlates with good mental health, measured by questions that asked about happiness, life satisfaction and social activity.

When the researchers plotted technology use against mental well-being, an umbrella-shaped curve emerged, highlighting what the researchers call the “Goldilocks spot” of technology use — not too little and not too much.

“We found that you’ve got to do a lot of texting before it hurts,” Przybylski says. For smartphone use, the shift from benign to potentially harmful came after about two hours of use on weekdays, mathematical analyses revealed. Weekday recreational computer use had a longer limit: four hours and 17 minutes, the researchers wrote in the February Psychological Science.
For even the heaviest users, the relationship between technology use and poorer mental health wasn’t all that strong. For scale, the potential negative effects of all that screen time was less than a third of the size of the positive effects of eating breakfast, Przybylski and Weinstein found.

Even if a relationship is found between technology use and poorer mental health, scientists still wouldn’t know why, Przybylski says. Perhaps the effect comes from displacing something, such as exercise or socializing, and not the technology itself.

We may never know just how our digital toys shape our brains. Technology is constantly changing, and fast. Our brains are responding and adapting to it.

“The human neocortex basically re-creates itself over successive generations,” Krubitzer says. It’s a given that people raised in a digital environment are going to have brains that reflect that environment. “We went from using stones to crack nuts to texting on a daily basis,” she says. “Clearly the brain has changed.”

It’s possible that those changes are a good thing, perhaps better preparing children to succeed in a fast-paced digital world. Or maybe we will come to discover that when we no longer make the effort to memorize our best friend’s phone number, something important is quietly slipping away.

Pluto is a planet. It always has been, and it always will be, says Will Grundy of Lowell Observatory in Flagstaff, Arizona. Now he just has to convince the world of that.

For centuries, the word planet meant “wanderer” and included the sun, the moon, Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter and Saturn. Eventually the moon and sun were dropped from the definition, but Pluto was included, after its discovery in 1930. That idea of a planet as a rocky or gaseous body that orbited the sun stuck, all the way up until 2006.
Then, the International Astronomical Union narrowed the definition, describing a planet as any round object that orbits the sun and has moved any pesky neighbors out of its way, either by consuming them or flinging them off into space. Pluto failed to meet the last criterion (SN: 9/2/06, p. 149), so it was demoted to a dwarf planet.

Almost overnight, the solar system was down to eight planets. “The public took notice,” Grundy says. It latched onto the IAU’s definition — perhaps a bit prematurely. The definition has flaws, he and other planetary scientists argue. First, it discounts the thousands of exotic worlds that orbit other stars and also rogue ones with no star to call home (SN: 4/4/15, p. 22).

Second, it requires that a planet cut a clear path around the sun. But no planet does that; Earth, Mars, Jupiter and Neptune share their paths with asteroids, and objects crisscross planets’ paths all the time.

The third flaw is related to the second. Objects farther from the sun need to be pretty bulky to cut a clear path. You could have a rock the size of Earth in the Kuiper Belt and it wouldn’t have the heft required to gobble down or eject objects from its path. So, it couldn’t be considered a planet.

Grundy and colleagues (all members of NASA’s New Horizons mission to Pluto) laid out these arguments against the IAU definition of a planet March 21 at the Lunar and Planetary Science Conference in The Woodlands, Texas.
A more suitable definition of a planet, says Grundy, is simpler: It’s any round object in space that is smaller than a star. By that definition, Pluto is a planet. So is the asteroid-belt object Ceres. So is Earth’s moon. “There’d be about 110 known planets in our solar system,” Grundy says, and plenty of exoplanets and rogue worlds would fit the bill as well.

The reason for the tweak is to keep the focus on the features — the physics, the geology, the atmosphere — of the world itself, rather than worry about what’s going on around it, he says.

The New Horizons mission has shown that Pluto is an interesting world with active geology, an intricate atmosphere and other features associated with planets in the solar system. It makes no sense to write Pluto off because it doesn’t fit one criterion. Grundy seems convinced the public could easily readopt the small world as a planet. Though he admits astronomers might be a tougher sell.

“People have been using the word correctly all along,” Grundy says. He suggests we stick with the original definition. That’s his plan.

It is the dazzling star of the biotech world: a powerful new tool that can deftly and precisely alter the structure of DNA. It promises cures for diseases, sturdier crops, malaria-resistant mosquitoes and more. Frenzy over the technique — known as CRISPR/Cas9 — is in full swing. Every week, new CRISPR findings are unfurled in scientific journals. In the courts, universities fight over patents. The media report on the breakthroughs as well as the ethics of this game changer almost daily.

But there is a less sequins-and-glitter side to CRISPR that’s just as alluring to anyone thirsty to understand the natural world. The biology behind CRISPR technology comes from a battle that has been raging for eons, out of sight and yet all around us (and on us, and in us).

The CRISPR editing tool has its origins in microbes — bacteria and archaea that live in obscene numbers everywhere from undersea vents to the snot in the human nose. For billions of years, these single-celled organisms have been at odds with the viruses — known as phages — that attack them, invaders so plentiful that a single drop of seawater can hold 10 million. And natural CRISPR systems (there are many) play a big part in this tussle. They act as gatekeepers, essentially cataloging viruses that get into cells. If a virus shows up again, the cell — and its offspring — can recognize and destroy it. Studying this system will teach biologists much about ecology, disease and the overall workings of life on Earth.

But moving from the simple, textbook story into real life is messy. In the few years since the defensive function of CRISPR systems was first appreciated, microbiologists have busied themselves collecting samples, conducting experiments and crunching reams of DNA data to try to understand what the systems do. From that has come much elegant physiology, a mass of complexity, surprises aplenty — and more than a little mystery.
Spoiled yogurt
The biology is complicated, and its basic nuts and bolts took some figuring out. There are two parts to CRISPR/Cas systems: the CRISPR bit and the Cas bit. The CRISPR bit — or “clustered regularly interspaced short palindromic repeats” — was stumbled on in the late 1980s and 1990s. Scientists then slowly pieced the story together by studying microbes that thrive in animals’ guts and in salt marshes, that cause the plague and that are used to make delicious yogurt and cheese.

None of the scientists knew what they were dealing with at first. They saw stretches of DNA with a characteristic pattern: short lengths of repeated sequence separated by other DNA sequences now known as spacers. Each spacer was unique. Because the roster of spacers could differ from one cell to the next in a given microbe species, an early realization was that these differences could be useful for forensic “typing” — investigators could tell whether food poisoning cases were linked, or if someone had stolen a company’s yogurt starter culture.
But curious findings piled up. Some of those spacers, it turned out, matched the DNA of phages. In a flurry of reports in 2005, scientists showed, to name one example, that strains of the lactic acid bacterium Streptococcus thermophilus contained spacers that matched genetic material of phages known to infect Streptococcus. And the more spacers a strain had, the more resistant it was to attack by phages.

This began to look a lot like learned or adaptive immunity, akin to our own antibody system: After exposure to a specific threat, your immune system remembers and you are thereafter resistant to that threat. In a classic experiment published in Science in 2007, researchers at the food company Danisco showed it was so. They could see new spacers added when a phage infected a culture of S. thermophilus. Afterward, the bacterium was immune to the phage. They could artificially engineer a phage spacer into the CRISPR DNA and see resistance emerge; when they took the spacer away, immunity was lost.

This was handy intel for an industry that could find whole vats of yogurt-making bacteria wiped out by phage infestations. It was an exciting time scientifically and commercially, says Rodolphe Barrangou of North Carolina State University in Raleigh, who did a lot of the Danisco work. “It was not just discovering a cool system, but also uncovering a powerful phage-resistance technology for the dairy industry,” he says.

The second part of the CRISPR/Cas system is the Cas bit: a set of genes located near the cluster of CRISPR spacers. The DNA sequences of these genes strongly suggested that they carried instructions for proteins that interact with DNA or RNA in some fashion — sticking to it, cutting it, copying it, unraveling it. When researchers inactivated one Cas gene or another, they saw immunity falter. Clearly, the two bits of the system — CRISPR and Cas — were a team.
It took many more experiments to get to today’s basic model of how CRISPR/Cas systems fight phages — and not just phages. Other types of foreign DNA can get into microbes, including circular rings called plasmids that shuttle from cell to cell and DNA pieces called transposable elements, which jump around within genomes. CRISPRs can fend off these intruders, as well as keep a microbe’s genome in tidy order.

The process works like this: A virus injects its genetic material into the cell. Sensing this danger, the cell selects a little strip of that genetic material and adds it to the spacers in the CRISPR cluster. This step, known as immunization or adaptation, creates a list of encounters a cell has had with viruses, plasmids or other foreign bits of DNA over time — neatly lined up in reverse chronological order, newest to oldest.

Older spacers eventually get shed, but a CRISPR cluster can grow to be long — the record holder to date is 587 spacers in Haliangium ochraceum, a salt-loving microbe isolated from a piece of seaweed. “It’s like looking at the last 600 shots you had in your arm,” says Barrangou. “Think about that.”

New spacer in place, the microbe is now immunized. Later comes targeting. If that same phage enters the cell again, it’s recognized. The cell has made RNA copies of the relevant spacer, which bind to the matching spot on the genome of the invading phage. That “guide RNA” leads Cas proteins to target and snip the phage DNA, defanging the intruder.
Researchers now know there are a confetti-storm of different CRISPR systems, and the list continues to grow. Some are simple — such as the CRISPR/Cas9 system that’s been adapted for gene editing in more complex creatures (SN: 4/15/17, p. 16) — and some are elaborate, with many protein workhorses deployed to get the job done.

Those who are sleuthing the evolution of CRISPR systems are deciphering a complex story. The part of the CRISPR toolbox involved in immunity (adding spacers after phages inject their genetic material) seems to have originated from a specific type of transposable element called a casposon. But the part responsible for targeting has multiple origins — in some cases, it’s another type of transposable element. In others, it’s a mystery.

The downsides
Given the power of CRISPR systems to ward off foes, one might think every respectable microbe out there in the soils, vents, lakes, guts and nostrils of this planet would have one. Not so.

Numbers are far from certain, partly because science hasn’t come close to identifying all the world’s microbes, let alone probe them all for CRISPRs. But the scads of microbial genetic data accrued so far throw up interesting trends.

Tallies suggest that CRISPR systems are far more prevalent in known archaea than in known bacteria — such systems exist in roughly 90 percent of archaea and about 35 percent of bacteria, says Eugene Koonin, a computational evolutionary biologist at the National Institutes of Health in Bethesda, Md. Archaea and bacteria, though both small and single-celled, are on opposite sides of the tree of life.

Perhaps more significantly, Koonin says, almost all the known microbes that live in superhot environments have CRISPRs. His group’s math models suggest that CRISPR systems are most useful when microbes encounter a big enough variety of viruses to make adaptive memory worth having. But if there’s too much variety, and viruses are changing very fast, CRISPRs don’t really help — because you’d never see the same virus again. The superhot ecosystems, he says, seem to have a stable amount of phage diversity that’s not too high or low.

And CRISPR systems have downsides. Just as people can develop autoimmune reactions against their own bodies, bacteria and archaea can accidentally make CRISPR spacers from bits of their own DNA — and risk chewing up their own genetic material. Researchers have seen this happen. “No immunity comes without a cost,” says Rotem Sorek, a microbial genomicist at the Weizmann Institute of Science in Rehovot, Israel.

But mistakes are rare, and Sorek and his colleagues recently figured out why in the microbe they study. The researchers reported in Nature in 2015 that CRISPR spacers are created from linear bits of DNA — and phage DNA is linear when it enters cells. The bacterial chromosome is protected because of its circular form. Should it break and become linear for a spell, such as when it’s being replicated, it contains signals that ward off the Cas proteins.

There are other negatives to CRISPR systems. It’s not always a bonus to keep out phages and other invaders, which can sometimes bring in useful things. Escherichia coli O157:H7, of food poisoning fame, can make humans sick because of toxin genes it harbors that were brought in by a phage, to name just one of myriad examples. Even CRISPR systems themselves are spread around the microbial kingdom via phages, plasmids or transposable elements.

For microbes that lack CRISPR systems, there are many other ways to repel foreign DNA — as much as 10 percent of a microbial genome may be devoted to hawkish warfare, and new defense systems are still being uncovered.

Countermeasures
The war between bacteria and phages is two-sided, of course. Just as a microbe wants to keep doors shut to protect its genetic integrity and escape destruction, the phage wants in.

And so the phage fights back against CRISPRs. It genetically morphs into forms that CRISPRs no longer recognize. Or it designs bespoke artillery. Microbiologist Joe Bondy-Denomy, now at the University of California, San Francisco, happened upon such customized weapons as a grad student in the lab of molecular microbiologist Alan Davidson at the University of Toronto. The team knew that the bacterium Pseudomonas aeruginosa, which lives in soil and water and can cause dangerous infections, has a vigorous CRISPR system. Yet some phages didn’t seem fazed by it.

That’s because those phages have small proteins that will bind to and interfere with this or that part of the CRISPR machinery, such as the Cas enzyme that cuts phage DNA. The binding disables the CRISPR system, the researchers reported in 2015 in Nature. Bondy-Denomy and others have since found anti-CRISPR genes in other phages and other kinds of interloping DNA. The genes are so common, Davidson says, that he wonders how many CRISPR systems are truly active.

In an especially bizarre twist, microbiologist Kimberley Seed of the University of California, Berkeley found a phage that carries its own CRISPR system and uses it to fight back against the cholera bacterium it invades, she and colleagues reported in 2013 in Nature. It chops up a segment of bacterial DNA that normally inhibits phage infection.

Of course, in this never-ending scuffle one would expect the microbes to again fight back against the phages. “It’s something I often get asked: ‘Great, the anti-CRISPRs are there, so where are the anti-anti-CRISPRs?’ ” Bondy-Denomy says. Nobody has found such things yet.

Evolution drivers
It’s one thing to study CRISPR systems in well-controlled lab settings, or in just one type of microbe. It’s another to understand what all the various CRISPRs do to shape the ecosystem of a bubbling hot spring, human gut, diseased lung or cholera-tainted river. Estimates of CRISPR abundance could drop as more sampling is done, especially of dark horse microbes that researchers know little about.

In a 2016 report in Nature Communications, for example, geomicrobiologist Jill Banfield of UC Berkeley and colleagues detected 1,724 microbes in Colorado groundwater that had been treated to boost the abundance of types that are difficult to isolate. CRISPR systems were much rarer in this sample than in databases of better-known microbes.

Tallying CRISPRs is just the start, of course. Microbial communities — including those inside our own guts, where there are plenty of CRISPR systems and phages — are dynamic, not frozen. How do CRISPRs shape the evolution of phages and microbes in the wild? Banfield’s and Barrangou’s labs teamed up to watch as S. thermophilus and phages incubated together in a milk medium for hundreds of days. The team saw bacterial numbers fall as phages invaded; then bacteria acquired spacers against the phage and rallied — and phage numbers fell downward in turn. Then new phage populations sprang up, immune to S. thermophilus defenses because of genetic changes. In this way, the researchers reported in 2016 in mBio, CRISPRs are “one of the fundamental drivers of phage evolution.”

CRISPR systems can be picked up, dropped, then picked up again by bacteria and archaea over time, perhaps as conditions and needs change. The bacterium Vibrio cholerae is an example of this dynamism, as Seed and colleagues reported in 2015 in the Journal of Bacteriology. The older, classical strains of this medical blight harbored CRISPRs, but these strains went largely extinct in the wild in the 1960s. Strains that cause cholera today do not have CRISPRs.

Nobody knows why, Seed says. But scientists stress that it is a mischaracterization to paint the relationship between microbes and phages, plasmids and transposable elements as a simplistic war. Phages don’t always wreak havoc; they can slip their genomes quietly into the bacterial chromosome and coexist benignly, getting copied along with the host DNA. Phages, plasmids and transposable elements can confer new, useful traits — sometimes even essential ones. Indeed, such movement of DNA across species and strains is at the heart of how bacteria and archaea evolve.

So it’s about finding balance. “If you incorporate too much foreign DNA, you cannot maintain a species,” says Luciano Marraffini, a molecular microbiologist at the Rockefeller University in New York City whose work first showed that DNA-cutting was key to CRISPR systems. But you do need to let some DNA in, and it’s likely that some CRISPR systems permit this: The system he studies in Staphylococcus epidermidis, for example, only goes after phages that are in their cell-killing, or lytic, state, he and colleagues reported in 2014 in Nature.
Beyond defense
One thing is very clear about CRISPR systems: They are perplexing in many ways. For a start, the spacers in a microbe should reflect its own, individual story of the phages it has encountered. So you’d think there would be local pedigrees, that a bacterium sampled in France would have a different spacer cluster from a bacterium sampled in Argentina. This is not what researchers always see.

Take the nasty P. aeruginosa. Rachel Whitaker, a microbial population biologist at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, studies Pseudomonas samples collected from people with cystic fibrosis, whose lungs develop chronic infections. She’s found no sign that two patients living close to each other carry more-similar P. aeruginosa CRISPRs than two patients thousands of miles apart. Yet surely one would expect nearby CRISPRs to be closer matches, because the Pseudomonas would have encountered similar phages. “It’s very weird,” Whitaker says.

Others have seen the same thing in heat-loving bacteria sampled from very distant bubbling hot springs. It’s as if scientists don’t truly understand how bacteria spread around the world — there could be a strong effect of far-flung passage by air or wind, says Konstantin Severinov, who studies CRISPR systems at Rutgers University in New Brunswick, N.J.
Another weirdness is the differing vigor of CRISPR systems. Some are very active. Molecular biologist Devaki Bhaya of the Carnegie Institution for Science’s plant biology department at Stanford University sees clear signs that spacers are frequently added and dropped in the cyanobacteria of Yellowstone’s hot springs, for example. But other systems are sluggish, and E. coli, that classic workhorse of genetics research, has a respectable-looking CRISPR system — that is switched off.

It may have been off for a long time. Some 42,000 years ago, a baby woolly mammoth died in what is now northwestern Siberia. The remains, found in 2007, were so well-preserved that the intestines were intact and E. coli DNA could be extracted.

In research published in Molecular Ecology in January, Severinov’s team found surprising similarities between the spacers in the mammoth-derived E. coli CRISPR cluster and those in modern-day E. coli. “There was no turnover in all that time,” Severinov marvels. If the CRISPR system isn’t active, why does E. coli bother to keep it?

That quandary leads neatly to what some researchers refer to as an intellectually “scandalous situation.”

In some cases, the genetic sequence of spacers nicely matches phage DNA. But overall, only a fraction (around 1 to 2 percent) of the spacers scientists know about have been matched to a virus or a plasmid. In E. coli, the spacers don’t match common, classic phages known to infect the bacterium. “Is it the case that there is a huge, unknown amount of viral dark matter in the world?” says Koonin — or are phages evolving superfast? “Or is it something completely different?”

Faced with this conundrum, some researchers strongly suspect — and have evidence — that CRISPR systems may do more than defend; they may have other jobs. Communication, perhaps. Or turning genes on and off.

But some microbes’ CRISPR sequences do make sense, especially if looking at the spacers most recently added, and others may be clues to phages still undiscovered. So even as they scratch their heads about many things CRISPR, scientists are also excited by the stories CRISPR clusters can tell about the viruses and other bits of DNA that bacteria and archaea encounter and that they choose, for whatever reason, to note for the record. What do microbes pay attention to? What do they ignore?

CRISPRs offer a bright new window on such questions and, indeed, already are unearthing novel phages and facts about who infects whom in the microscopic world.

“We can catalog everything that’s out there. But we don’t really know what matters,” says Bondy-Denomy. “CRISPRs can help us understand.”

Eggs, long condemned for making raw cookie dough a forbidden pleasure, can stop taking all the blame. There’s another reason to resist the sweet uncooked temptation: flour.

The seemingly innocuous pantry staple can harbor strains of E. coli bacteria that make people sick. And, while not a particularly common source of foodborne illness, flour has been implicated in two E. coli outbreaks in the United States and Canada in the last two years.

Pinning down tainted flour as the source of the U.S. outbreak, which sickened 63 people between December 2015 and September 2016, was trickier than the average food poisoning investigation, researchers recount November 22 in the New England Journal of Medicine.
Usually, state health departments rely on standard questionnaires to find a common culprit for a cluster of reported illnesses, says Samuel Crowe, an epidemiologist at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention in Atlanta, who led the study. But flour isn’t usually tracked on these surveys. So when the initial investigation yielded inconclusive results, public health researchers turned to in-depth personal interviews with 10 people who had fallen ill.

Crowe spent up to two hours asking each person detailed questions about what he or she had eaten around the time of getting sick. Asking people what they ate eight weeks ago can be challenging, Crowe says: Many people can’t even remember what they ate for breakfast that morning.

“I got a little lucky,” Crowe says. Two people remembered eating raw cookie dough before getting sick. They each sent Crowe pictures of the bag of flour they had used to make the batter. It turned out that both bags had been produced in the same plant. That was a “pretty unusual thing,” he says.
Follow-up questioning helped Crowe and his team pin down flour as the likely source. Eventually, U.S. Food and Drug Administration scientists analyzed the flour and isolated strains of E. coli bacteria that produce Shiga toxins, which make E. coli dangerous.

Disease-causing bacteria, including E. coli, usually thrive in moist environments, like bags of prewashed lettuce (SN: 12/24/16, p. 4). But the bacteria can also survive in a desiccated state for months and be re-activated with water, says Crowe. So as soon as dry flour mingles with eggs or oil, dormant bacteria can reawaken and start to replicate.

Cookie dough wasn’t the culprit in every case. A few children who got sick had been given raw tortilla dough to play with while waiting for a table at a restaurant. The cases all involved wheat flour from the same facility, leading to a recall of more than 250 flour-containing products.

There are ways to kill bacteria in flour before it reaches grocery store shelves, but they aren’t in use in the United States. Heat treatment, for example, will rid flour of E. coli and other pathogens. But the process also changes the structure of the flour, which affects the texture of baked goods, says Rick Holley, a food safety expert at the University of Manitoba in Canada who wasn’t part of the study. Irradiation, used to kill parasites and other pests in flour, might be a better option, Holley says. But it takes a higher dose of radiation to zap bacteria than it does to kill pests.

Or, of course, people could hold out for warm, freshly baked cookies.

Ask a classroom of children to draw a scientist, and you’ll see plenty of Crayola-colored lab coats, goggles and bubbling beakers. That image hasn’t changed much since the 1960s. But the person wearing the lab coat is shifting.

A new analysis finds that more female scientists have appeared in kids’ drawings in recent decades — going from nearly nonexistent in the 1960s to about a third in 2016.

“A lot has changed since the 1960s,” says David Miller, a Ph.D. candidate in psychology at Northwestern University who reports the findings with colleagues March 20 in Child Development.
The first of many “draw-a-scientist” studies asked nearly 5,000 children to draw a scientist between 1966 and 1977. “Of those 5,000 drawings,” Miller says, “only 28 … depicted a female scientist.” That’s just 0.6 percent.

Today, “more women are becoming scientists, and there’s some evidence that female scientists are being represented more in the media,” he says. For instance, in a content analysis of the magazine Highlights for Children, 13 percent of people pictured in science feature stories of the 1960s were women or girls, compared with 44 percent in the 2000s.
To look for changes in children’s perceptions over time, the researchers conducted a meta-analysis, combining data from 78 studies that included a total of more than 20,000 U.S. children in kindergarten through 12th grade.

On average, 28 percent of children drew female scientists in studies conducted from 1985 to 2016, the researchers found.

What hasn’t changed much: Kids pick up stereotypes by gender as they grow up. At age 6, girls in the more recent studies drew female scientists about 70 percent of the time. By age 16, 75 percent drew male scientists.

“This is a critical period in which kids are learning stereotypes,” Miller says. “It’s important that teachers and parents present diverse examples of both male and female scientists.”

Editors’ note: This story was corrected on March 21, 2018, to note that by age 16, girls drew only 25 percent of scientists as female.

Cocooned within the bowels of the Earth, one mineral’s metamorphosis into another may trigger some of the deepest earthquakes ever detected.

These cryptic tremors — known as deep-focus earthquakes — are a seismic conundrum. They violently rupture at depths greater than 300 kilometers, where intense temperatures and pressures are thought to force rocks to flow smoothly. Now, experiments suggest that those same hellish conditions might also sometimes transform olivine — the primary mineral in Earth’s mantle — into the mineral wadsleyite. This mineral switch-up can destabilize the surrounding rock, enabling earthquakes at otherwise impossible depths, mineral physicist Tomohiro Ohuchi and colleagues report September 15 in Nature Communications.
“It’s been a real puzzle for many scientists because earthquakes shouldn’t occur deeper than 300 kilometers,” says Ohuchi, of Ehime University in Matsuyama, Japan.

Deep-focus earthquakes usually occur at subduction zones where tectonic plates made of oceanic crust — rich in olivine — plunge toward the mantle (SN: 1/13/21). Since the quakes’ seismic waves lose strength during their long ascent to the surface, they aren’t typically dangerous. But that doesn’t mean the quakes aren’t sometimes powerful. In 2013, a magnitude 8.3 deep-focus quake struck around 609 kilometers below the Sea of Okhotsk, just off Russia’s eastern coast.

Past studies hinted that unstable olivine crystals could spawn deep quakes. But those studies tested other minerals that were similar in composition to olivine but deform at lower pressures, Ohuchi says, or the experiments didn’t strain samples enough to form faults.

He and his team decided to put olivine itself to the test. To replicate conditions deep underground, the researchers heated and squeezed olivine crystals up to nearly 1100° Celsius and 17 gigapascals. Then the team used a mechanical press to further compress the olivine slowly and monitored the deformation.

From 11 to 17 gigapascals and about 800° to 900° C, the olivine recrystallized into thin layers containing new wadsleyite and smaller olivine grains. The researchers also found tiny faults and recorded bursts of sound waves — indicative of miniature earthquakes. Along subducting tectonic plates, many of these thin layers grow and link to form weak regions in the rock, upon which faults and earthquakes can initiate, the researchers suggest.

“The transformation really wreaks havoc with the [rock’s] mechanical stability,” says geophysicist Pamela Burnley of the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, who was not involved in the research. The findings help confirm that olivine transformations are enabling deep-focus earthquakes, she says.

Next, Ohuchi’s team plans to experiment on olivine at even higher pressures to gain insights into the mineral’s deformation at greater depths.

Potential hints of weird new particles in a dark matter detector have evaporated with new data.

Following up on a beguiling result from its predecessor experiment, the XENONnT experiment found no sign of extra blips that could point to new particles or another phenomenon, scientists report July 22 in Vienna at the International Conference on Identification of Dark Matter.

The XENONnT experiment (pronounced “xenon n ton”), at the Gran Sasso National Laboratory in Italy, uses 5.9 metric tons of liquid xenon to search for dark matter, an elusive substance that so far has been seen only via its gravitational effects in the cosmos (SN: 10/25/16). The detector is designed to look for dark matter particles crashing into xenon atoms’ nuclei, causing them to recoil. But the detector can also spot recoiling electrons.
In 2020, a smaller version of the experiment, called XENON1T, reported greater-than-expected numbers of those ricocheting electrons (SN: 6/17/20). “This caused a lot of stir when we published it,” says physicist Rafael Lang of Purdue University in West Lafayette, Ind.

That surplus, some scientists suggested, could have been explained by some unexpected new physics, such as hypothetical lightweight particles that may originate from the sun called solar axions. But the excess wasn’t large enough to be convincing, so more data were needed.

In the new analysis, which uses about 97 days of data, XENONnT spotted as many electron recoils as expected due to known particle interactions, the researchers also reported in a paper posted on the experiment’s website. Scientists don’t know what caused the extra detections in the previous experiment, but it’s possible it was merely a statistical fluke, Lang says. Or it may have been due to small amounts of tritium — hydrogen atoms with two neutrons in their nuclei — in the detector.

With the red herring out of the way, XENONnT researchers are now combing through their data for nuclear recoils, in hopes of detecting the real deal.

It may soon be too late to end the global monkeypox epidemic.

“We are losing the window to be able to contain this outbreak,” Boghuma Titanji, an infectious diseases doctor and virologist at Emory University in Atlanta said July 21 during a seminar sponsored by the Harvard Kennedy School’s Belfer Center for Science and International Affairs.

On July 23, Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus, director of the World Health Organization declared the global outbreak of monkeypox is a public health emergency of international concern, the organization’s highest state of alert. The WHO committee evaluating the matter was split on whether the outbreak constitutes an international emergency, but Ghebreyesus decided that enough conditions were met to warrant the designation.
Monkeypox has infected more than 15,700 people since the beginning of May, according to Global.health (SN: 5/26/22). More than 2,800 cases have been reported in the United States as of July 22, the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention report.

“Although I am declaring a public health emergency of international concern, for the moment this is an outbreak that is concentrated among men who have sex with men, especially those with multiple sexual partners,” Ghebreyesus said in a statement. “That means that this is an outbreak that can be stopped with the right strategies in the right groups.”

Monkeypox has caused outbreaks for decades in some parts of Africa, Anne Rimoin, an epidemiologist at the UCLA Fielding School of Public Health, said at the Harvard seminar. But the virus “has been neglected by the global health community.” Monkeypox “has been giving us warning signals” for years in Congo, Nigeria and other parts of West Africa, but has only gotten attention once it recently started causing cases outside of the continent, Rimoin said.

There has been no concerted global effort to contain the virus, which is related to smallpox, Titanji said. Each country has been left to set its own policies.

That has led to disparities. Well-resourced countries have had at least some access to testing, vaccines and medications, which may help limit the spread of the virus or the severity of the disease. Resource-poor nations often lack that access, leaving them with limited ability to track or control the virus. Continued spread of monkeypox in resource-poor countries could leave places that do manage to contain an initial outbreak vulnerable to reintroductions, Jay K. Varma, director of the Cornell Center for Pandemic Prevention and Response in New York City, said in the seminar. The WHO emergency declaration may lead to a more concerted international effort that could make more resources available to contain the spread of the virus.

Even for the wealthiest countries, containing the outbreak is a challenge. Questions abound about how the virus is transmitted, and whether vaccines and treatments — when people can get them — can halt its spread. Even diagnosing the disease can be tricky, with testing often hard to come by and missed diagnoses potentially leading to more cases.

The vast majority of monkeypox cases in the global outbreak have been among men who have sex with men. Of 528 people infected with monkeypox in 16 countries, 98 percent identified as gay or bisexual men, researchers report July 21 in the New England Journal of Medicine.

In some countries with outbreaks, “gay men are criminalized,” Kai Kupferschmidt, a correspondent for Science magazine, said during the seminar. In those countries, “people cannot access good information to help them keep from getting infected and cannot access health care if they do get infected. In these countries, it becomes really difficult to even see the problem,” he said.

Ghebreyesus urged all countries to “work closely with communities of men who have sex with men, to design and deliver effective information and services, and to adopt measures that protect the health, human rights and dignity of affected communities. Stigma and discrimination can be as dangerous as any virus,” he said in a statement.

Doctors might also miss cases of monkeypox because of the unusual presentation of the illness in this outbreak, compared with earlier outbreaks. For instance, in the NEJM study, only a quarter of patients had monkeypox lesions on their faces and only 10 percent had the sores on their palms or soles of their feet. Those body parts have been among some of the most affected in other outbreaks.

Instead, 73 percent of people in the study had lesions in the anal and genital regions and 55 percent on the trunk, arms or legs. Some people also had lesions in their mouths and throats. Most of the people in the study had fewer than 10 lesions, with 54 people having only a single lesion on their genitals, making confusion with herpes or syphilis possible, even easy.

Seventy people in the study were admitted to the hospital. Of those, 21 were hospitalized because of pain, mostly severe rectal pain. Others had eye lesions, kidney damage, inflammation of the heart or throat swelling that prevented them from taking in liquids.

Those complications fit with what health officials across the United States have been seeing. “While mortality appears very low, which is great, morbidity has been much higher than any of us expected,” Mary Foote, the medical director of the New York City Department of Health and Mental Hygiene, said July 14 in a news briefing sponsored by the Infectious Diseases Society of America.

“A lot of people with this infection are really suffering, and some may be at risk of permanent damage and scarring. We see many people with symptoms so severe that they are unable to go to the bathroom, urinate or eat without excruciating pain,” Foote said.

A small number of women and children have also gotten monkeypox in the outbreak. Two children in the United States have been diagnosed with monkeypox, CDC director Rochelle Walensky said July 22 in an interview with the Washington Post. Both children were social contacts of men that have sex with men, she said.

A child in the Netherlands who had no contact with anyone known to be infected with the virus also got monkeypox, researchers report July 21 in Eurosurveillance. His case raises the possibility that monkeypox may be spreading undetected more broadly in communities than realized.

“I don’t think it’s surprising that we are occasionally going to see cases in individuals who are not gay, bisexual or other men who have sex with men. The social networks we have as humans mean we have contact with a lot of different people,” Jennifer McQuiston, deputy director of the CDC’s Division of High Consequence Pathogens and Pathology said July 22 during a White House news briefing.

Exactly how the child in the Netherlands became infected is a matter of speculation. Monkeypox typically spreads among people through close contact with infected people or with clothing, bedding or towels used by people with the disease. Examination of viral DNA showed that the boy isn’t connected to any of the known cases in the Netherlands. He traveled to Turkey in June and may have gotten infected there or while traveling.

The boy has very low levels of IgA antibodies, which patrol mucous membranes and help prevent infections there. Low levels of the antibodies could make him vulnerable to respiratory infections. People can get infected with monkeypox through droplets given off by infected people during close face-to-face interactions, such as close conversation, kissing or during medical exams. But patterns of infection clearly indicate that monkeypox isn’t airborne the way COVID-19 or other respiratory viruses are, Kupferschmidt said.

Details of how monkeypox spreads are still unknown. For instance, researchers don’t know whether the virus can be transmitted through semen as a sexually transmitted disease. Researchers have found evidence of viral DNA in semen, saliva, urine and feces, but that may just be inactive remnants of the virus. So far, no researchers have reported finding infectious virus in genital body fluids that might be exchanged during sex. Also unknown is whether getting infected through mucous membranes during sexual contact would shield against catching the virus later, Rimoin said.

Scientists are questioning whether the monkeypox virus has changed or whether it has simply found a niche social-sexual network among gay and bisexual men that may enable the virus to spread more efficiently, Titanji said. It may be that there are different transmission patterns in historically affected countries and newly affected countries that require different strategies to stop the spread, she said.

Researchers also need to do good studies to figure out how well vaccines and therapeutics work and under what circumstances, Rimoin said. WHO’s emergency declaration includes recommendations for increasing testing and surveillance and for seeding up research on vaccines, treatments and other virus containment measures.

One thing is clear, Rimoin said. “We’re giving this virus room to run like it never has before.” People have passed the buck, leaving others to work out the problem of monkeypox, she said. But now, “it’s everybody’s problem to solve.”