我們對于人類基因組的奧秘知道的越多,,對DNA的整體工作機制卻懂得的更少,。然而,,一切奧秘還是有跡可尋...
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Yet today, this prospect seems more distant than ever. After the genome was sequenced, another major project was launched to try to understand which bits of the genome do what. The results, released this week, reveal that our genome is far more complex and mysterious than biologists imagined just a decade ago. Back in the 1960s, a beautifully simple picture emerged. Our DNA consisted of recipes for proteins. The double helix could be unzipped to allow RNA copies of these recipes to be made and sent to the protein-making factories in cells. But by the 1970s, it had become clear that only a tiny proportion of our DNA codes for proteins - just 1.2 per cent, we now know. What about all the rest? Some assumed it must do something, others suggested it was mostly junk. "At least 90 of our genomic DNA is 'junk' or 'garbage' of various sorts," the geneticist Susumu Ohno wrote in 1972. Ohno knew, though, that some of the DNA that didn't code for proteins still played a vital role. For instance, the process of making RNA copies of genes - transcription - involves clusters of proteins binding to specific sequences near the genes. These proteins - called transcription factors - control the activity of genes by either boosting or blocking transcription, so the sequences to which they bind are known as regulatory DNA or switches. So how much DNA acts a switch, or has some other function? To provide an overall picture of which parts of the genome do what, the Encyclopedia of DNA Elements (ENCODE) project was set up in 2003. It involves many teams around the world using a variety of techniques. The results of a pilot studylooking at just 1 per cent of the genome were released in 2007. This week, the results of its study of the entire genome were released, with the publication of more than 30 papers in Nature and other journals. Among other things, ENCODE looked for switches that control gene activity. The researchers did this by taking known transcription factors and seeing which bits of DNA these proteins bound to. So far, they have found 4 million sites, covering 8.5 per cent of the genome - far more than anyone expected. Even this is likely to be a gross underestimate of the true number, because ENCODE hasn't yet looked at every cell type, or every known transcription factor. "When we extrapolate up, it's more like 18 or 19 per cent," says Ewan Birney of the European Bioinformatics Institute in Cambridge, UK, who is coordinating the data analysis for ENCODE. "We see way more switches than we were expecting, and nearly every part of the genome is close to a switch." But - and it is a big but - these findings do not show whether these switches actually do anything useful. Many of them may have played a role in the past, for instance, but are now "disconnected".
This might help to explain one of biology's biggest puzzles: the mystery of the "missing heritability". We know there's a big genetic component to traits and diseases such as height and diabetes, but the genetic variants found so far typically account for only a tiny percentage of this heritability. The missing inheritance The assumption has been that genetic variants work in isolation, so their effects are additive: if you've got one variant that increases the risk of, say, heart disease 5 per cent and another that increases it 10 per cent, your overall risk is 15 per cent. But Dekker's discovery suggests that the effects of some variants can multiply: these variants may have a small effect on their own, but a much bigger effect if a person has certain other variants too. "I firmly believe that much of the missing heritability is due to complex interactions between multiple genes, multiple non-coding variants and multiple environmental factors," saysJason Moore of the Geisel School of Medicine at Dartmouth in Hanover, New Hampshire. "The reason we've missed a lot of the heritability for complex diseases could be because we've ignored the complexity of the interactions that we know exist in biology." So up to 20 per cent of the genome may consist of regulatory switches, working or otherwise. What about the rest? ENCODE tried to address this by mapping what proportion of the genome is involved in some kind of biochemical event, which might suggest how much of it is in daily use. The results suggest that up to 80 per cent of the genome is active, with much of it being transcribed into RNAs.
"They can work like taxi drivers to deliver proteins around the genome, but they can also tether one part of the genome to another and act as a bridge," says Kevin Morris of the Scripps Research Institute in La Jolla, California. Yet others act as decoys, reducing protein output by soaking up coding RNAs.
"Transcription of non-coding DNA does not automatically indicate function," says Ryan Gregory of the University of Guelph in Ontario, Canada, who studies genome evolution. "I don't think ENCODE will show that the majority of the 98 per cent of non-coding DNA in the human genome is functional for regulation. It would be astonishing if it took so much to regulate a mere 20,000 genes." Only a handful of biologists, the most vocal being John Mattick of the University of Queensland in Brisbane, Australia, think most non-coding RNAs will turn out to have an important role. "It's now up to the proponents of the noise theory to explain why there's so much of the genome that's showing functional signatures," says Mattick. But doing something is not the same as doing something useful, and there are good reasons to think that most of our DNA does not play a vital role. For starters, at conception we all have dozens of new mutations. Most of us have one to five mutations that adversely affect gene function in our protein-coding DNA alone, says Joseph Nadeau of the Institute for Systems Biology in Seattle, Washington. If most of our DNA were vital, populations would acquire harmful mutations faster than they lose them through the death of embryos and children with lots of nasty mutations. "If the fraction of the genome that's functional increases, the question is: how do we tolerate that? Why aren't we dead many times over?" asks Nadeau. One way to get a sense of the importance of a given bit of DNA is to look at whether it can accumulate mutations without consequence or whether it remains unchanged in a population because natural selection eliminates any individuals with mutations. "Something like seven out of ten nucleotide changes in [protein] coding sequences get kicked out because they're deleterious, but nine out of ten changes in non-coding sequence don't get kicked out," says Chris Ponting of the University of Oxford. "That's telling us something about the importance of coding changes versus non-coding changes." Birney agrees, although he says ENCODE has looked at the transcribed RNA that's specific to primates and found that some of it seems to be under selective pressure in humans. Another way to assess the importance of a given bit of DNA is to delete it to see what happens. This obviously can't be done in people, but in mice huge chunks of non-coding DNA that appeared to be functional have been deleted without any obvious effect. Then again, it is possible to delete many protein-coding genes from organisms such as yeast without any obvious effect, too. One explanation is that in cossetted lab conditions, organisms can manage without DNA that is essential for survival in more challenging environments. Another is that there is a lot of redundancy in the genome. Although you would expect mutations to eliminate redundancy, there may be some circumstances in which it can be maintained.
Because they can Gregory has found that some kinds of animals, such as metamorphosing amphibians whose cells need to divide rapidly at times, have smaller genomes than other animals. This suggests that organisms tend to accumulate DNA until its size becomes detrimental, rather like the way people in a big house tend to fill the attic with junk whereas those in small houses have to keep throwing things out. So we are left with something of a mystery. Although several lines of evidence suggest that most of our DNA is far from essential, ENCODE's results suggest that most regions of our genome do do something. One answer could be that most of these regions do not do anything of any great consequence. "They may still have effects. They may change someone's facial anatomy," says Ponting. "They may have very small effects which evolution isn't acting upon." Birney thinks some of these regions do matter, though. "We don't yet have a definitive answer to how much of it is important, but we've discovered a lot more things that could be important than anybody had ever suspected," he says. "People often say it's the protein coding regions, plus a bit more. It's not a bit more, it's a lot more." When ENCODE's work started, Birney himself was also highly sceptical about the role of non-protein-coding RNAs in genome function. He even bet Mattick a case of vintage champagne that less than 20 per cent of non-coding RNAs would turn out to be useful. "I am definitely closer to losing this bet," he says. It could be a long time before one of them gets the champagne, though. Working out which of the millions of regions ENCODE has identified as functional are actually important is an immense task that could take many decades. Ultimately, the only way to prove that a particular region is vital is to show that variants in this region have some effect on people, which is far from easy. In some cases, though, the evidence already exists: the positions of significant genetic variants identified by studies looking for associations between genetic variants and diseases often coincide with ENCODE regions. "Most of the time we have something that's either bang on top of those regions identified by [these] studies, or really close by," says Birney. This is already giving us clues about the causes of diseases. For example, some variants associated with Crohn's disease are in switches that ENCODE found are active in immune cells called T-helper cells. It seems, though, that the more we learn about the genome, the less we know. "Our genome knows how to make a human, but I think it is hubris to think that that recipe book would be simple and well laid out," says Birney. "We are one of the most complicated things that we know about, and indeed it does look very complicated." We're certainly a long way from the complete understanding of the genome portrayed in Gattaca. In fact, we may never achieve it. "It may well be too complex," says Moore. Part of this complexity comes from the many ways in which our genome interacts with the environment. "I think DNA will become more predictive, but the flip side of this research is understanding how much of complex traits are due to environmental effects, or free will - things that we can change," says Birney. "DNA is not destiny." Linda Geddes is a reporter for New Scientist |
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