Science In Vitro

ethics + policy

photo by Stephanie Le

Science in vitro

by Manu Lakkur

Looking into Life at the Clark Center

S

tanford’s Clark Center is the biggest experiment on campus. Nestled between the sleek structures of the engineering quad and the expansive buildings of the medical center, it is the home of Bio-X, Stanford’s interdisciplinary life sciences program. The building, as far as architecture goes, is a work of art. Apart from Hoover Tower and the original sandstone buildings of the Main Quad, it is arguably Stanford’s most stunning structure. But is it an effective laboratory? Most people who work at the Clark Center think so. The complaints of a few, however, show that some practical considerations in the building’s design may have lost out to aesthetic ones. The comments of these workers especially matter because, at its heart, the Clark Center is a bold attempt to answer a question that faces any multidisciplinary effort: can a carefully planned building bring researchers from different fields together and foster collaboration across disciplines under one roof? Or three roofs, to be more accurate. The three buildings that compose the Clark Center form an enormous geode. Lackluster limestone and rust-red railings line the outside of each structure, but they lead in to a crystal interior: three stories of glass that encircle the central courtyard. All of this architecture works well

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to create an inviting atmosphere. At lunchtime, more people— students, scientists, doctors—gather here than anywhere else on west campus. With all of this activity, the Clark Center seems just right for nurturing interdisciplinary collaboration. Many aspects of its design work towards this goal. The labs are reconfigurable, so that faculty can move in and out of the building and research groups can shift their focus. Researchers can rent hotel space, or small temporary lab benches, to “work in close proximity during the early stages of projects,” according to the Bio-X website. Most uniquely, the building’s glass walls and open spaces add a social element missing in many laboratory environments. Many people enjoy the resulting atmosphere. “It seems like a social environment to do science, which can be important,” researcher Jeremy England says. Looking around the Clark Center at lunchtime, I had to agree. Using affordable food as bait, the Linx cafeteria draws researchers from all over west campus, encouraging conversations and, the resulting idea is, cooperation across disciplines. I saw a doctor talking to an electrical engineer, which has got to count for something (even if they were discussing shock therapy). But the building encourages socialization in

layout design : Manu Lakkur

ethics

addition to academic collaboration. The two students sharing a spaghetti at one table in the corner, for example, were definitely not talking about “interdisciplinary life sciences.” Lively though the courtyard may be, not everyone likes the Clark Center. A friend of mine once said that he felt like a “lab rat” working there, since any passerby could see him through his lab’s floor-to-ceiling windows. “There’s no way to have a private conversation,” another researcher said. It was complaints such as these that brought me to Clark to take a closer look. As I peered into

+ explains. The story was similar when I visited the next policy lab: “I think this place is okay, but talk to the guy who works over there when he gets back.” It is clear that a lot of thought went into the aesthetic, environmental, and spatial design of the Clark Center. But is something missing? The building is a grand metaphor for collaboration and for science—but was it designed with the needs of the researchers who work there in mind? The answer is an uncontroversial “mostly.” The designers of the Clark Center spent great effort and spared few expenses to create a state-of-the-art research environment. Dave Lenox, the Stanford University Architect, explained that a panel of four faculty originally proposed the building in a white paper on the Bio-X program. The committee “envisioned a collaborative, multidisciplinary environment for science and research. This established the direction for the building program and subsequently the architecture.” To create the new “multidisciplinary environment,” Stanford hired several prestigious firms, including the London-based offices of superstar architect Lord Norman Foster. Foster had overseen other avant-garde projects before, including London’s

The building is a grand metaphor for collaboration and for science—but was it designed with the needs of the researchers who work there in mind? one wall of glass, I could see a cross section of an entire laboratory: several researchers in white coats scurried between microscopes and computers perched on desks. Perhaps my friend’s rat-in-acage analogy wasn’t too much of a stretch. And my friend isn’t the only one. Talking to people in offices, in conference rooms, and in labs, I found that though the large majority of people who work at the Clark Center like it, there are a vehement few that think the building is “flawed.” In almost every lab group, there’s that guy who needs fifteen minutes to properly explain his frustration. Andy, one researcher that I talked to, falls into this camp. When I asked him whether he liked working here, he told me to take a seat. “The essential makeup of this building is a large barn,” he said, referring to the open lab setup. His list of complaints, though long, was legitimate. “The furniture is cheap,” and there were “a lot of compromises to put everything on wheels.” Since the lab is designed to be reconfigurable, the lighting does not always line up with the lab benches. “They’ve had to put in more lighting,” Andy Left: Lord Norman Foster, the famous architect behind the Clark Center. His firm’s website has more pictures of the building and of other projects around the world (www.fosterandpartners.com). Below: The Clark Center courtyard is a hub of activity during lunchtime. Notice that, except for the researchers in white coats, most people seem to be having a good time socializing . Look carefully for “interdisciplinary collaboration.”

L.A. Cicero / Stanford News Service photo by Stephanie Le

layout design:

volume iv 55

ethics + policy

Below: Laboratory science as many student researchers at stanford experience it. nps.gov/hfc/products/cons/photos/con-lab-science.jpg

http://www.nlm.nih.gov/hmd/frankenstein/IID51.jpg

Left: Joseph Wright’s Experiment on a Bird in the Airpump recreates a dramatic (and somewhat sadistic) eighteenth-century experiment—placing a bird in a vacuum pump. The Smithsonian’s website says: “The artist doesn’t tell us if the bird will be revived, but instead concentrates on the moment and the reactions of the audience to it. The range of reaction—the fright of the children, the interest of the young man, the philosophical reflection of the older man, and the indifference of the young lovers— was probably intended as a commentary on the relation of science to humanity.” (http:// americanhistory.si.edu).

“Bio-X is a new way of working, almost anarchy. ” -David Nelson, Foster & Partners Millennium Bridge and the Reichstag reconstruction in Berlin, and his team brought innovative ideas to Stanford. There is “tremendous potential for a building that can in itself break down barriers,” he told one newspaper. An associate added that “Bio-X is a new way of working, almost anarchy.” What’s interesting about these comments is that they come from architects, not scientists or researchers. By and far, the minds behind the Clark Center—architects, administrators, high-level faculty—concentrated on big-picture concepts. Lab reconfiguration. Interdisciplinary collaboration. Showcasing science. From this broad perspective, some issues of day-to-day importance to researchers were out of sight. Lenox said a working group, comprised of thirty-two faculty members, also “weighed in heavily in the decision-making process.” However, no non-faculty staff, such as research assistants, administrative associates, or students, seem to have been involved to this degree. The result is like having a friend buy you a new pair of jeans: they look great, but they don’t photo by Manu Lakkur fit exactly right. It’s telling that most complaints about the building come from research assistants, and especially ones who work in the Clark Center’s most dynamic labs. “A building for most people is a big box,” researcher Eric Berger remarks, acknowledging that many co-workers enjoy the Bio-X building. “You come and do your thing.” He explained how difficult it was to add a

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table to his lab: it took eight weeks and paperwork and the table had to be shipped from Germany, since all furniture in the Clark Center must conform to “building spec.” “It seems like there were lots of decisions made for aesthetics as opposed to practicality,” he says. Indeed, so much about the Clark Center is aesthetic or attempts to be symbolic that the building seems to reflect what the architects, and perhaps the public, think of science. Even in the twenty-first century, science continues to be foreign, part of the ‘other,’ something to be placed in a very special building (maybe not an ivory tower, but a glass cage works just as well). Through this glass—from the outside—the public can see science happen: not the everyday science that my friend, the “lab rat,” does to help defray the costs of his tuition, but the romantic Science of alchemy and moon-lit experiments, something worthy of a nineteenth century canvas or a book by Shelley (see painting above). Okay, maybe that’s carrying the symbolism too far. In addition to its… good looks, the Clark Center has, all in all, been a success— it has encouraged interdisciplinary research, expanded available laboratory space, and provided campus with a new social spot, not to mention $5 noodles. And most people think it’s great: “I have no complaints,” one woman told me as she practiced a speech on a balcony on the second floor. “I love it.” Nevertheless, there’s one lesson that Stanford should take away from this architectural experiment, especially as it embarks on a plan to build a new science and engineering quad: get some feedback from the “lab rats” next time. S Manu Lakkur is a coterminal student majoring in electrical engineering and former editor-in-chief of Stanford Scientific.