Michael Fossel Michael is President of Telocyte

March 20, 2018

Aging and Disease: An Index

For those interested in knowing where this blog is going (or where it has been), here is an index of all previous and planned posts for this series on Aging and Disease. Note that the planned posts may change as we progress.

0.1 Prologue

1.0 Aging, our purpose, our perspective

1.1 Aging, what is isn’t

1.2 Aging, what we have to explain

1.3 Aging, what it is

1.4 Aging, the overview

1.5 Aging, misconceptions

2.0 Cell senescence, perspective

2.1 Why cells divide

2.2 Telomeres

2.3 Changes in gene expression

2.4 Changes in molecular turnover

2.5 Changes in molecular turnover, most molecules

2.6 Changes in molecular turnover, DNA repair

2.7 Changes in molecular turnover, Mitochondria

2.8 Changes in molecular turnover, extra-cellular molecules

2.9 Cell senescence and tissue aging

3.0 Aging disease

3.1 Cancer

3.2 Direct and indirect aging

3.3 Skin

3.4 Immune system

3.5 Osteoarthritis

3.6 Osteoporosis

3.7 Arterial (vascular) disease

3.8 CNS disease

3.9 CNS: Parkinson’s disease

3.10 CNS: Alzheimer’s disease

4.0 Treating age-related disease, what doesn’t work, small molecular approaches

4.1 What doesn’t work, killing senescent cells

4.2 What works, lowering risks

4.3 What works, resetting gene expression

5.0 Telomerase in the Clinic

February 13, 2018

Aging and Disease: 1.2 – Aging, What We Have to Explain

Our understanding is limited by our vision.

If we look locally, our understanding is merely local; if we look globally, our understanding becomes more global; and if we look at our entire universe, then our understanding will be universal. When we attempt to understand our world, we often start with what we know best: our own, local, provincial view of the world around us, and this limits our understanding, particularly of the wider world beyond our local horizon.

Trying to explain the shape of our world, I look at the ground around me and – perhaps not surprisingly – conclude that the world is probably flat. After all, it looks flat locally. Trying to understand the heavens, I look up at the sky around me and – perhaps not surprisingly – conclude that the sun circles the earth. After all, the sun appears to circle over me locally. Trying to understand our physical reality, I look at everyday objects and – perhaps not surprisingly – conclude that “classical physics” accounts for my universe. After all, classical physics accounts for typical objects that are around me locally. As long as we merely look around, look up, and look at quotidian objects, these explanations appear sufficient.

But it is only when we look beyond our purely local neighborhood – when we move beyond our provincial viewpoint, when we give up our simple preconceptions – that can we begin to understand reality. Taking a broader view, we discover that the Earth is round, that the sun is the center of our local star system, and that quantum and relativity physics are a minimum starting point in trying to account for our physical universe.

To truly understand requires that we step back from our parochial, day-to-day, common way of seeing world and open our minds to a much wider view of reality. We need to look at the broader view, the larger universe, the unexpected, the uncommon, or in the case of modern physics, the extremely small and the extremely fast. Time, mass, energy, and other concepts may become oddly elusive and surprisingly complicated, but our new understanding, once achieved, is a lot closer to reality than the simple ideas we get from restricting our vision to the mere commonplace of Newtonian physics. This is true of for branch of science, and for human knowledge generally.

The wider we cast our intellectual nets, the more accurately we understand our world.

To understand aging demands a wide net. If our knowledge of aging is restricted to watching our friends and neighbors age, then our resulting view of aging is necessarily naïve and charmingly unrealistic. If we expand our horizons slightly, to include dogs, cats, livestock, and other mammals, then we have a marginally better view of aging. But even if we realize that different species age at different rates, our understanding is only marginally less naive. To truly understand aging, we need to look at all of biology. We need to look at all species (not just common mammals), all diseases (e.g., the progerias and age-related diseases in all animals), all types of organisms (e.g., multicellular and unicellular organims, since some multicellular organisms don’t age and some unicellular organisms do age), all types of cell within organisms (since somatic cells age, germ cells don’t, and stem cells appear to lie in between the two extremes), and all the cellular components of cells. In short, to understand aging – both what aging is and what aging isn’t – we need to look at all life, all cells, and all biological processes.

Only then, can we begin understand aging.

To open our minds and examine the entire spectrum of aging – so that we can begin to understand what aging is and how to frame a consistent concept of “aging” in the first place – let’s contrast the small sample we would examine in the narrowest, common view of aging with the huge set of biological phenomena we must examine if we want to gain comprehensive and accurate view of aging, a view that allows us to truly understand aging.

The narrow view, the most common stance in considering aging, examines aging as we encounter it in normal humans (such as people we know or people we see in the media) and in normal animals (generally pets, such as dogs and cats, and for some people, domesticated animals, such as horses, cattle, pigs, goats, etc.). This narrow view leaves out almost all species found on our planet. This sample is insufficient to make any accurate statements about the aging process, with the result that most people believe that “everything ages”, “aging is just wear and tear”, and “nothing can be done about aging”. Given the narrow set of data, none of these conclusions are surpring, but then it’s equally unsurprising that all of these conclusion are mistaken.

A broad view has a lot more to take into consideration (see Figure 1), which is (admittedly) an awful lot of work. The categories that we need to include may help us see how broad an accurate and comprehensive view has to be. We need to examine and compare aging:

  1. Among all different organisms,
  2. Within each type of organism,
  3. Among all different cell types, and
  4. Within each type of cell.


Lets look at these categories in a bit more detail.

When we look at different organisms, we can’t stop at humans (or even just mammals). We have to account for aging (and non-aging) in all multicellular organisms, including plants, lobsters, hydra, naked rats, bats, and everything else. And not only do we need to look at all multicellular organisms, we also need to account for aging (and non-aging) in all unicellular organisms, including bacteria, yeast, amoebae, and everything else. In short, we need to consider every species.

When we look within organisms, we need to account for all age-related diseases (and any lack of age-related diseases or age-related changes) within organisms. Diseases will include all human (a species that is only one tiny example, but that happens to be dear to all of us) age-related diseases, such as Alzheimer’s disease and all the other CNS age-related diseases, arterial aging (including coronary artery disease, strokes, aneurysms, peripheral vascular disease, cogestive heart failure, etc.), ostoarthritis, osteoporosis, immune system aging, skin aging, renal aging, etc. But we can’t stop there by any means. In addition to age-related diseases within an organism, we need to look at aging changes (and non-aging) whether they are seen as diseaeses or not, for example graying hair, wrinkles, endocrine changes, myastenia, and hundreds of other systemic changes in the aging organism.

When we look at different cells, we need to account for the fact that some cells (e.g., the germ cell lines, including ova and sperm) within multicellular organisms don’t age, while other cells in those same organims (e.g., most somatic cells) do age, and some cells (e.g., stem cells) appear to be intermediate between germ and somatic cells in their aging changes.

When we look within cells, we need to account for a wild assortment of age-related changes in the cells that age, while accounting for the fact that other cells may show no such changes, even in the same species and the same organism. In cells that age – cells that senesce – we need to account for telomere shortening, changes in gene expression, methylation (and other epigenetic changes), a decline in DNA repair (including all four “families” of repair enzymes), mitochondrial changes (including the efficacy of aerobic metabolism enzymes deriving from the nucleus, leakier mitochondrial lipid membranes, increases in ROS production per unit of ATP, etc.), decreased turnover of proteins (enzymatic, structural, and other proteins), decreased turnover of other intracellular and extracellular molecules (lipids, sugars, proteins, and mixed types of molecules, such as glycoproteins, etc.), increased accumulation of denatured molecules, etc. The list is almost innumerable and still growing annually.

If we are truly to understand aging, we cannot look merely at aging humans and a few aging mammals, then close our minds and wave our hands about “wear and tear”. If we are to understand aging accurately and with sophistication, then we must not only look at a broader picture, but the entire picture. In short, to understand aging, we must stand back all the way in both time and space, and look at all of biology.

To understand aging, we must understand life.

August 25, 2015

Alzheimer’s: One Disease?

Most of us have wondered about what causes Alzheimer’s. As commonly happens, we stumble badly when we make assumptions, even in asking questions, let alone in trying to answer those questions. The question “what causes Alzheimer’s?” presupposes that there is a single such disease (Alzheimer’s) and that we can define it well enough to ask about “its” cause. Neither of these is probably an accurate assumption. The reality is that there is considerable difficulty in agreeing on the “hallmarks” (the pathognomonic characteristics that define AD) and the “boundaries” between AD and other somewhat similar diseases on the differential diagnosis. Comparing Alzheimer’s to many other age-related neurological diseases can be humbling – and it should be. Small wonder we have so much trouble understanding the cause, let alone finding a cure when we don’t really know what we’re looking at.

Rather than just reinforce our preconceptions, let’s look at reality a bit more closely.

One of the things that has become clearer over the past century – and especially so over the past two decades – is that there is a remarkable amount of overlap in the pathology found in what we have thought of as different age-related neurological problems. This has become grudgingly accepted as we compare not only Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s disease, but a host of other clinical problems, such as microvascular infarcts, vascular dementia, frontotemporal dementia, hippocampal sclerosis, Huntington’s disease, amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, dementia with Lewy bodies, and mixed dementia (a term that sort of sums up the problem we’re discussing). Just to restrict ourselves to the two classic diseases – AD versus PD – Alzheimer’s tends to have primarily cognitive rather than motor problems, whereas Parkinson’s tends to have primarily motor rather than cognitive problems. In reality, however, both Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s patients tend to have some of both, particularly as their diseases progress. At the histological level, we tend to distinguish the locations of each disease, and at the neurochemical level we likewise make distinctions, yet there still remains overlap at almost any level, once we look more carefully.

Perhaps there is a single, common, underlying causative pathology that results in BOTH of these diseases. Could both AD and PD be two different manifestations of a shared problem?

This same question surfaces when we look carefully at the vascular dementias: they overlap in many ways with the classical “non-vascular” etiologies. Again: could all of these have a common underlying factor with disparate clinical presentations? We see the same problem when we look at age-related neurological dysfunction in animal models, such as laboratory-created Alzheimer’s models in mice, as well as the “normal” decline in any wild species (such as mice or rats). We go to a lot of trouble to introduce human genes into laboratory species in order to produce a “mouse model of Alzheimer’s”, yet these animals show behavioral declines even in the wild and when we introduce human genes, it’s certainly not clear that we end up with a mouse model that teaches us anything useful when we want to find a cure.

We could put all of these clinical changes together by positing that they derive from a common cellular problem, that of cell senescence. Different patients have different genes and different patterns of gene expression, so their disease expressions differ, some having AD, some having PD, some having any number of other disease phenotypes. Different animals (humans versus mice, for example) likewise have differing genetic and epigenetic settings, so their disease expressions also differ, humans showing beta amyloid and tau protein changes, mice showing a different pattern, but all showing behavioral and cognitive decline over time, whatever the individual pathway the pathology uses to express itself.

Consider our diagram of the “Common Pathological Pathways in Age-Related CNS Failure” (see figure A). The proposition illustrated in this diagram is that of a single underlying problem, with multiple possible pathways, and a shared outcome: age-related CNS failure. One cause, multiple pathways (often defined as different diseases), but one outcome. Whatever the pathway chosen, the outcome is an increasing neurological dysfunction with age.


Figure A08-25-15 Figure A

In the case of particular diseases (or particular species), the clinical phenotype depends on which cells are senescing fastest (e.g., glial cells in the brain, endothelial cells in the arterial tree, etc.) and which protein products (e.g., beta amyloid, tau protein, alpha synuclein, etc.) are most likely to cause problems first, depending upon the genetic landscape and the epigenetics of the individual patient or the individual species. If we now label the common diagram with specific diseases and species, we get something like the second diagram (see figure B).


Figure B08-25-15 Figure B

If we really want to understand, and cure, Alzheimer’s, then we need to start by understanding (and curing) our own preconceptions. It is only when we look at not only the clinical data, but a wide panoply of species that we can truly understand any of the diseases that we see day-to-day.

One cause, multiple pathways, and a single shared outcome: CNS failure.

Curing Alzheimer’s becomes – as it has been for a century – a fool’s errand if all we target are the specific genes and proteins that we (naively) think of as the hallmarks of the disease. If we truly want cure Alzheimer’s, then it’s time we understand the disease and it’s high time we target the actual causes of not only Alzheimer’s disease, but the entire spectrum of age-related neurological diseases that should be labelled under a common rubric, diseases of cell senescence.

It’s time we understand Alzheimer’s and time we cure it.

Powered by WordPress