The theme of this year’s American Association for the Advancement of Science (AAAS) annual meeting is "Grand Challenges, Great Opportunities." As I glance over my schedule for the next few days, it occurs to me that my most pressing grand challenge is to decide which of the nearly 200 symposia to attend.
If you’ve never been to a AAAS meeting, you may not know that they’re unique in the breadth of science represented. It’s the sort of meeting where you can hear about women in industrial research, climate change, and how insects fly—all within the space of a single morning. "Opportunities abound in this meeting to stretch ourselves, to learn something in fields other than our own," said AAAS President Gilbert S. Omenn at last night’s plenary lecture. I confess that for me it’s a refreshing change from most scientific meetings. I always leave a AAAS meeting with reenergized interest in science.
This year’s meeting has a special place in my heart because it’s being held in my hometown of St. Louis. AAAS hasn’t held its annual meeting in St. Louis since 1952. For a bit of perspective, in 1952 Harry Truman was president (he was the only Missourian to hold the office), Jonas Salk produced the first polio vaccine, and C&EN’s current editor-in-chief hadn’t been born yet. That’s quite an absence for a town that considers itself on the cutting edge of science.
Yeah, I know, most people don’t think of St. Louis as a scientific powerhouse, but there is a large scientific and medical community here. In fact, at last night’s plenary, meeting attendees were greeted by three leaders of the city’s scientific enterprise—Peter Raven, director of the Missouri Botanical Garden; Mark S. Wrighton, chancellor of Washington University; and Hugh Grant, chair and CEO of Monsanto, who pointed out that St. Louis is literally the center of agricultural science. Half of all U.S. agriculture is within a 500-mile radius of the city, he said. "You’re right in the middle of a really big piece of farmland."
The city, for its part, seems to be getting into the spirit of the meeting. There are AAAS signs around the meeting venue, and local weather seems intent on expressing its opinion on the climate change symposia. When I arrived at 1 PM on Thursday, it was a humid 70 degrees. A few hours later, heavy storms pelted parts of the city with three-inch hail. By the time I finished dinner, the temperature had dropped more than 40 degrees.
I just hope the city remains silent about the symposium entitled "Tremors in the Heartland: The Puzzle of Mid-Continent Earthquakes."—Bethany Halford, filed at 7:22 AM CST