NO-NONSENSE SCIENCE

The discovery has turned Yamanaka, 45, into a most unlikely phenomenon in Japan: a celebrity scientist. Media crews stormed his lab at Kyoto University. The government has paid millions of dollars to continue the research.

Only Yamanaka has seemed bored by the fuss, a bit irritated even. He resents taking time away from his work to explain the details of his discovery to laymen over and over. He8217;d rather be back in his lab, he tells interviewers, turning his discovery into a practical medical technology that can help people suffering a myriad of ailments, from spinal injuries to heart disease.

8220;I was a physician before I became a scientist,8221; Yamanaka said, explaining why he has no interest in becoming rich or famous. 8220;I am mostly interested in what this discovery can do for patients.8221;

Yamanaka8217;s determination to show he is only in it for the public good, even in what should be his moment of glory, fits with how the Japanese expect their scientists to behave. Humble. Disdainful of wealth.

They want them to be like neuroscientist Ryuta Kawashima, who turned his ideas on how to stave off senility into a huge industry of books and video games on brain training. Sure, Kawashima likes to brag 8212; that he hasn8217;t taken any of the millions in royalties he8217;s entitled to. He doesn8217;t even want to take a vacation, he says, preferring to devote every available hour to helping the elderly.

Not everyone thinks the emphasis on modesty is a good thing. They wonder whether the limited personal recognition might be one reason young Japanese are turned off from careers in science. The science establishment has recognised the problem and is taking the first steps to make changes, pushing for the appointment of younger scientists to top jobs rather than relying on the traditional seniority system.

The idea is to make science sexier.

8220;We have heroes in sports, and I always thought that scientists have personal stories that could make them heroes, too,8221; said Shiro Segawa, a Waseda University professor of science journalism who edited a 2004 book called 8220;Science White Paper8221; that tried to draw attention to Japan8217;s achievements. 8220;But public interest is pretty limited.8221;

8220;We were taught that science is a philosophy, more like music or art,8221; said Shigeyuki Koide, science editor of the Yomiuri Shimbun newspaper. 8220;To the Japanese, science is supposed to be about pleasure, not fame.8221;

Those who have gone looking for recognition and reward risk ostracism. Take the case of Shuji Nakamura, inventor of the blue light-emitting diode that opened the way for massive energy savings in light production. Nakamura made his discovery in 1993 while working for Nichia Corp. The company gave him a 180 bonus. Nakamura complained that he was being treated like a slave.

He left Japan in 1999 for a position at the University of California, Santa Barbara, but two years later launched a lawsuit against his former employer. The Japanese public was split on the lawsuit, Koide said. Some sympathised with the plight of a low-paid worker under the thumb of his corporate employer. Others were appalled by what they saw as an unseemly grasp for wealth.

8220;He chose the American way, not the Japanese way,8221; sniffed Yoshiro Nakamatsu, a prolific inventor with more patents to his name than anyone in history. 8220;The purpose of science and invention is love, not making money,8221; Nakamatsu said.

Yamanaka is cut from that same self-effacing mold. But what separates him from other Japanese scientists is that his discovery, his dreamy theory, occurred in one of the hottest fields. Being able to create the equivalent of stem cells opens the way to cures for an incredible number of diseases. It could revolutionise medicine.

Change the lives of millions.

Useful stuff. 8220;Some day I hope we can even treat baldness,8221; he said. 8220;That8217;s my dream.8221;
-Bruce Wallace Los Angeles Times