The Double Helix

“I have attempted to recreate my first impressions of the relevant events and personalities rather than present an assessment which takes into account the many facts I have learned since the structure was found. Although the latter approach might be more objective, it would fail to convey the spirit of an adventure characterized both by youthful arrogance and by the belief that the truth, once found, would be simple as well as pretty.” 

This is a crucial positioning statement found in Watson’s Preface. The voice here is that of the author writing in 1967, fourteen years after their discovery. He is explaining his decision to “recreate” his “first impressions”, and use the limited narrator of his younger self to tell the story, rather than attempt to take a more objective, distanced stance on events. In other words, he is not going to attempt to write a history, but a personal account. A key motivating factor behind this is his desire to capture the spirit of the time, and what it actually felt like to be part of the events. The “personal account” will also reveal something of the person doing the accounting; his “youthful arrogance,” and his belief in the simplicity and elegance of scientific truth. By calling out his own “youthful arrogance,” Watson is again distancing himself from his younger self, and the portrayal of events we are about to read. 

“No two people ever see the same events in exactly the same light. In this sense, no one will ever be able to write a definitive history of how the structure was established.” 

This is part of Watson’s positioning of his account in the Preface as a personal, subjective version of events, rather than an objective history. But this statement also raises an important epistemological question about relativity and suggests there can be no final, objective account of events. Every individual sees events from their own unique perspective, and this involves inevitable distortions, limitations, and evaluative emphases. Even an attempt at an objective historical account is subject to this problem. It might seek to bring in a wider range of views and to establish balance, but it is ultimately still another perspective, with its own limitations and agendas.

This makes for an interesting point of comparison with science, which is conventionally understood as an objective discipline. Watson and Crick found a definite, objective model for the structure of DNA. For all their differences of perspective, the scientists in this book could agree on its validity. By contrast, the history of this event, or any other, can have no definitive solution: we are left with an aggregate of different perspectives, versions of events, and attempts at finding a truth, which will always elude us. 

“Willy soon spotted me, slowed down, and momentarily gave the impression that he might remove his rucksack and chat for a while. But all he said was, ‘How’s Honest Jim?’ and quickly increasing his pace was soon below me on the path.” 

Watson’s Prologue is written from a perspective two years after the main narrative ends. Aside from the Foreword, Preface and Epilogue it is the only part of the book written from outside the main action. This anecdote of the encounter between Watson and Willy Seeds during a walking holiday presents a question, a mystery of sorts, which engages the reader: what is the meaning of Seed’s abrupt words and immediate disappearance?

We sense that his words to Watson are sarcastic, even hostile - but Watson doesn’t at this point elaborate on their meaning. He deliberately leaves them as an open question, while implying that the narrative we’re about to read might offer an explanation. In terms of narrative technique, Watson uses the encounter to build suspense.

It is only later we gather that Seeds is alluding to the way Watson and Crick jumped in on the DNA problem, and used Wilkins’ and Franklin’s evidence. As one of the scientists working with Wilkins, Seeds is unhappy about this. His barbed words to Watson - “Honest Jim” - are meant to imply there was something less than honest and fair in what he and Crick did. They raise the issue of scientific fair play which runs throughout the book, while also illustrating the point Watson makes in the Preface that everyone has their own perspective of events: Seeds view is clearly quite different from what we’re about to hear from Watson. Perhaps it hints at another underlying motivation for Watson’s writing of this book—a desire to set the record straight. 

“Later as I trudged upward, I thought again about our earlier meetings in London. Then DNA was still a mystery, up for grabs, and no one was sure who would get it and whether he would deserve it if it proved as exciting as we semi-secretly believed. But now the race was over and, as one of the winners, I knew the tale was not simple and certainly not as the newspapers reported.” 

This continues directly from the above encounter with Seeds in the Prologue, an episode which occurs two years after the main narrative has ended. Watson is “trudging” up a mountain in the Alps, after a mild altercation with a disgruntled Willy Seeds, and the word “trudging” sets something of the tone for the lines that follow.

These lines show a change of perspective from when Watson was caught up in the excitement of the hunt for DNA, when it was still a mystery. Looking back, he sees instead the complexity of the situation, perhaps implicitly the moral ambiguity of parts of what took place. The DNA riddle is solved on a scientific level, but on a human level, the problem is just now arising as an object of inquiry, a different kind of riddle to engage with, one for which there can ultimately be no single answer. The “newspapers” presented one narrative, Willy Seeds clearly has another, and this is Watson just about to give us his own version of the tale.

The reference to a “race” establishes a motif we will see recurring again and again throughout the book. And though Watson is “one of the winners,” there is not a tone of celebration here, but of wistful reflection.

“One could not be a successful scientist without realizing that, in contrast to the popular conception supported by newspapers and mothers of scientists, a goodly number ofscientists are not only narrow minded and dull, but also just stupid.” 

Here we see Watson using free indirect discourse to convey an opinion Crick expressed. There are no quotation marks to suggest these are Crick’s words, but Watson makes clear in the surrounding context that he is expressing and elaborating on Crick’s point of view. That said, it may well be a view he supports.

It shows the qualities of frankness, quickjudgment, and arrogance which were both a failingand a part of their success. It also shows Watson’s talent as a writer. It is a lively, well-constructed piece of prose, with enough bombast to provoke a response in the reader, but enough humour to offset its offence. The fact that it’s given as free indirect discourse from Wilkins’ point of view also means that Watson can step away slightly from its provocative implications, while using it as a useful tool to build a fuller picture of Crick.

It expresses an opposition, particularly apparent in the early parts of the book, between the ideal of the great scientist and the humbler workaday scientists they set themselves against. 

“Clearly Rosy had to go or be put in her place. The former was obviously preferable because, given her belligerent moods, it would be very difficult for Maurice to maintain a dominant position that would allow him to think unhindered about DNA.” 

Here Watson puts in simple but problematic terms the conflict between Franklin and Wilkins. No possibility is suggested of a compromise, or a meeting of equals. The only options are expelling or subduing in a zero-sum power struggle. The language is that of mastery and dominance; she must be “put in her place,” and Wilkins must remain dominant.It’s not hard to infer the troubling gender assumptions. Franklin is a woman attempting to assert herself in the male-dominated world of science; her temerity is to refuse to accept a subordinate status. It is stated that only by asserting his dominance can Wilkins make progress on DNA.

The perspective presented here and throughout is broadly in sympathy with Wilkins. Watson moves into freeindirect discourse to convey what he believes to be Wilkins’ position and thoughts on the matter. Franklin’s own position and thoughts are not really presented—she is simply an antagonist. The use of free indirect discourse to reconstruct the imagined thoughts and perspectives of other characters is a regular device of Watson’s. 

“By the time Maurice arrived I was noticeably restless and impatient to return north. Herman had completely misled me. For the first six weeks in Naples I was constantly cold. The official temperature is often much less relevant than the absence of central heating.” 

This is a comment Watson makes while working at the zoological station in Naples with Herman Kalckar, just before the crucial meeting with Wilkins. The quote expresses something of Watson’s mindset in the early stages of the narrative: his single-mindedness and his impatience with any kind of work that doesn’t get him closer to the secret of DNA.

We see something of the less than glamorous realities of the life of a young scientist, having to cope with the unheated accommodations in Naples. The mention of cold and damp becomes a running refrain in Watson’s account, and stands in contrast to the expense and relative glamour of the large scientific gatherings he occasionally attends. 

“Most of my time I spent walking the streets or reading journal articles from the early days of genetics. Sometimes I daydreamed about discovering the secret of the gene, but not once did I have the faintest trace of a respectable idea. It was thus difficult to avoid the disquieting thought that I was not accomplishing anything.” 

Taken from Watson’s recollections of his time in Naples, we sense here his feelings of frustration at his own lack of progress. This passage gives another indication of the focus and drive which are crucial parts of Watson’s character. We also get some insight into his thoughtprocess: the role of ambition and the pursuit of greatness. We have the contrast between his “daydreaming” about discovering the “secret of genes” and his own frank acknowledgment that, in reality, he was getting nowhere.He is uncompromising in his judgment on this point. Only progress on DNA and genes counts as progress. 

“As soon as we reached Naples, however, my daydreams of glory by association ended. Maurice moved off to his hotel with only a casual nod. Neither the beauty of my sister nor my intense interest in the DNA structure had snared him.” 

Watson reflects here on the failure of his attempts to establish a personal link with Wilkins that might lead to him joining Wilkins to work on DNA in London. He is typically honest and open in his confession of his own less-than-noble motivations, and there is a self-ironizing note in his description of his “daydreams of glory by association.”

We see here too Watson’s opportunism and unscrupulousness, as he admits attempting to use the beauty of his sister as a way of “snaring” Wilkins’ interest. She becomes a means to an end in his attempts at scientific networking. We also see something of Wilkins typically reserved and understated character: a “casual nod” is all he gives Watson at the end of their encounter. Watson clearly sees Wilkins at this point as crucial to getting to the heart of the secret of DNA, but his attempts to forge a link here aren’t particularly successful. 

“A potential key to the secret of life was impossible to push out of my mind. The fact that I was unable to interpret it did not bother me. It was certainly better to imagine myself becoming famous than maturing into a stifled academic who had never risked a thought.” 

The key to the secret of life referred to here is Wilkin’s image of DNA, which was crucial in determining the direction of Watson’s thinking both practically and scientifically. We see here the logic of Watson’s thinking as a risk-taker, and the dichotomy he establishes between two types of scientist: the great adventurous scientist and the “stifled academic,” who doesn’t dare to risk anything. The implication is that to become a great scientist one has to take risks, try new things, take a leap into the unknown, and that is exactly what Watson commits to doing by shifting the focus of his research and moving to the Cavendish.

Again, we see the egotistical hope for fame and glory is a key motivating factor for the young Watson. The possibility of realizing his dreams and ambitions make the risks he is taking seem worthwhile. We see his characteristic self-belief and adventuring spirit, as he is undaunted by the fact that in this moment he is “unable to interpret” Wilkins’ image. 

“It was my first experience with the high life, associated in my mind with decaying European aristocracy. An important truth was slowly entering my head: a scientist’s life might be interesting socially as well as intellectually.”  

“The performance was uncompromisingly British, and I quietly concluded that the whitemustached figure of Bragg now spent most of its days sitting in London clubs like the Athenaeum. The thought never occurred to me then that later on I would have contact with this apparent curiosity out of the past.” 

Watson describes his first impressions of Bragg on the day he starts work at the Cavendish. The performance referred to here is the departure of Bragg and Perutz for a private conversation about the admittance of Watson to the lab, before returning to grant formal permission. This moment of academic ritual strikes Watson as “uncompromisingly British” in the American sense of the word that associates Britishness with tradition, formality, archaism. To the young American, Bragg becomes emblematic of both the positive and negative elements of this cultural stereotype.

Watson shows his ability as a writer to convey a sense of character with just a few lively phrases. We have no lengthy description of Bragg, just a “white mustached figure” whose reserved character is neatly conveyed by the “uncompromisingly British” performance.

We see the introduction of a typical note of humour and imagination in Watson’s description, when he goes on to picture Bragg spending most of his days sitting in gentlemen’s clubs in London. (The Athenaeum is a distinguished private club whose members are mostly intellectuals).

This addition helps to characterise the narrator (his way of thinking and forming quick judgements) as much as it lends further colour to the portrayal of Bragg. It follows neatly from Watson’s cultural assumptions about Bragg as a fusty old English gent. He assumes wrongly that Bragg must be a figure of the past, with no real interest in contemporary science. In a rare moment of narratorial self-qualification, he then jumps ahead of his initial impression to point out how his view of Bragg changed. 

“No one should mind if, by spending only a few hours a week thinking about DNA, he helped me solve a smashingly important problem.”

Here we have Crick’s voice again coming through in free indirect discourse. The phrase carries all the liveliness of direct speech and captures the process of a thought in formation.

It also conveys the almost comic arrogance and nonchalance of the pair: the idea that in only a few hours a week, they could solve the DNA riddle. It also indicates that their work on DNA is unofficial; they both have other official areas of research, which had they fully attended to, we would probably not be reading about them. The phrase “no one should mind” suggests the potentially problematic nature of their undertaking, in the very moment it seeks to assure us of its legitimacy.

“The key to Linus’ success was his reliance on the simple Laws of structural chemistry. The α-helix had not been found by only staring at X ray pictures; the essential trick, instead, was to ask which atoms like to sit next to each other.”

This passage occurs when Watson and Crick are working out their initial approach to the DNA question, and basically looking to follow the model that Pauling had used to establish the helical structure of certain protein molecules. Watson broadly describes Pauling’s approach as the combination of structural chemistry and molecular modelling: “the α-helix had not been found by only staring at X ray pictures”. Notable here is Watson’s typically lively and emphatic tone. He is describing an incredibly specialised scientific method, but he gives us only the broad and necessary outline. The general reader is spared more intricate scientific discussion and terminology.

In fact, the language is dramatic and almost deliberately non-scientific: “staring at X ray pictures” rather than “analysing” or “interpreting”; and the laws of structural chemistry casually summed up by “which atoms like to sit next to each other,” with just a hint of personification in the imputing of preferences to atoms. What Watson is doing here on the level of style and diction seems analogous to what he is arguing for as the benefit of Pauling’s approach: a drive for simplicity, a cutting to the chase. He succeeds in making what might otherwise be quite a terse scientific section of prose interesting and exciting by writing in this conversational way. We could say that the human and the scientific come together in his style, just as they do in the narrative as a whole. 

“There was no restraint in Francis’ enthusiasms about young women—that is, as long as they showed some vitality and were distinctive in any way that permitted gossip and amusement. When young, he saw little of women and was only now discovering the sparkle they added to life.” 

This observation from Watson comes as part of a description of lively evening conversations with Crick and Odile at their home, usually involving plenty of wine. The passage is characteristic of the objectifying view of women that’s prevalent in Watson’s account, and indicates that this view is not just his, but part of a wider culture.

Crick’s interest in young women, as described here, is primarily as objects of sexual attraction and entertainment. They can add “sparkle” to life, but this is very much kept apart from the serious business of work and science. The problem is that this trivializing view of young women affects the way they relate to women as a whole, and notably influences Watson’s depiction of Franklin, a woman who refuses to play along with this narrative. 

“The wrong person had been sent to hear Rosy. If Francis had gone along, no such ambiguity would have existed. It was the penalty for being over-sensitive to the situation. For, admittedly, the sight of Francis mulling over the consequences of Rosins information when it was hardly out of her mouth would have upset Maurice.” 

Watson, not Crick, was invited to Franklin’s talk in London. Crick is frustrated afterwards about the imprecision of Watson’s recollections. This passage hints at the reasons why it was Watson not Crick who went. What’s meant by Crick’s “over-sensitivity” is his tendency to get carried away and make bold and socially problematic assertions. Of the two of them, Watson is more of the diplomatic.

There is also an acknowledgement here of the inherent delicacy of the situation. According to the etiquette of scientific fair play, DNA was supposedly Wilkins’ domain, and Watson and Crick were effectively muscling in. The implication is that Crick would have made this far too obvious, whereas Watson is a slightly shrewder social operator, even if he was less likely to properly record and pick up on the right details. Again, we see the way the human and scientific dimensions interact. 

“At no moment did Francis see any point in trying to simplify the matter for Odile’s benefit. Ever since she had told him that gravity went only three miles into the sky, this aspect of their relationship was set. Not only did she not know any science, but any attempt to put some in her head would be a losing fight against the years of her convent upbringing. The most to hope for was an appreciation of the linear way in which money was measured.” 

Crick is a scientist, Odile an artist, and the two seem quite happy for their professional worlds to be kept apart. Crick makes no effort to educate Odile in matters of science and she, for her part, shows no desire to learn. Watson portrays this in a comic light here, recounting how Odile had once claimed “gravity went only three miles into the sky.”

The passage drifts close to free indirect discourse, and it’s hard to say how far we’re reading Watson’s opinion, or the reported words of Crick, or a bit of both. The last line is more troubling, with its satirical and condescending tone. The suggestion here is that the best that can be hoped for is that Odile grasps the financial implications of their discovery: “the linear way money was measured.” This is probably intended as a joke, but it points to, and re-affirms, that now familiar dichotomy between science and women. 

“More than a week passed before I slowly caught on that a family of leftish leanings could be bothered by the way their guests were attired. Naomi and several of the women dressed for dinner, but I put this aberrant behaviour down as a sign of approaching old age. The thought never occurred to me that my own appearance was noticed, since my hair was beginning to lose its American identity.” 

Watson reflects on how his appearance is perceived when he stays with Aitchison’s family for Christmas. They are a family of intellectuals with “leftist leanings” and it surprises Watson to learn they still keep to the tradition of dressing up for dinner.

The passage is more interesting in what it tells us about Watson himself. He rarely speaks directly about his own appearance, but here we get a sense not just of his style, but his self-perception. He wears his hair long, and perhaps comes across as something of a scruffy, dishevelled figure. He links formal dress to social and political conservatism, and finds it difficult to square up the progressive politics and cultural formality of his hosts.

His hair might seem like a trivial point, but it comes up more than once as a focal point for reflection on his American identity (or his attempt to escape it). It becomes something of a symbol, an outward signifier of cultural identity. Short hair is linked to American style and custom, something that marked Watson out on his arrival in Cambridge as a foreigner. He actively seeks to blend in by growing his hair.

“It was all too clear that the presence of popsies does not inevitably lead to a scientific future.”

This statement offers Watson’s conclusion on hearing that Crick’s encountered a colleague with a young woman in his office. There to inquire about a scientific matter, Crick realises “Griffith’s attentions lay elsewhere.” The tone is light-hearted, but underlying it is that worrying distinction between science and women which is a running motif throughout The Double Helix.

The colloquial term “popsie” itself conveys something of the problem. The word, which was used to describe attractive young women, has a diminutive, childish quality. It has its origin in the word “poppet,” meaning sweet child, or doll. Clearly “popsies” could have no place in the serious world of science. Watson sees them as a pleasant distraction, but notes here that the two interests are best kept apart. There is a time for serious science, and a time for distraction, and the point seems to be Griffith isn’t helping himself by blurring the two.

“Hearing Joshua give Rabelaisian non-stop talks of three to five hours made it all too clear that he was an enfant terrible. Moreover, there was his godlike quality of each year expanding in size, perhaps eventually to fill the universe.”  

This passage comes as part of a description of the scientist Joshua Lederberg, the leading expert on genetics at the time. It is notable as an example of Watson’s comic style and exaggerated way of portraying characters.

Watson creates a picture of Lederberg in a few broad and imaginative strokes. We have the image of him delivering rambling three talks that indicate both his seemingly unchallengeable authority and maverick nature. The word “Rabelaisian” refers to the 16th century French writer Francis Rabelais, who is known for his long, free-flowing and elaborate descriptions. The real comic brilliance of Watson’s description comes in the following line, where Watson borrows something of the imagination and hyperbole of Rabelais himself, and describes Lederberg’s “god-like” quality of expanding each year, perhaps to the point of filling the universe.

We have the exaggerated picture of a fattening, unconventional scientist, talking for as long as he pleases, and growing fatter and fatter by the year. Watson links his physical proportions to his intellectual authority and gives his growing size an absurdly grand association to create a humorous and memorable image. 

“...I decided to risk a full explosion. Without further hesitation, I implied that she was incompetent in interpreting X-ray pictures. If only she would learn some theory, she would understand how her supposed antithetical features arose from the minor distortions needed to pack regular helices into a crystalline lattice. Suddenly Rosy came from behind the lab bench that separated us and began moving toward me. Fearing that in her hot anger she might strike me, I grabbed up the Pauling manuscript and hastily retreated to the open door.” 

One of the most dramatic scenes in Watson’s account is his description of his argument with Franklin, in her lab. This may well be a place where subjective biases distort Watson’s account, and call into question its reliability.

At this point tensions have already risen and Watson notes that Franklin is “hardly able to control her temper” (119). He presents himself, by contrast, as calm and in control. He “decides” to risk a full explosion, and is working out his moves in advance, rather than being led by emotion. The ascription of emotion as the driving force in Franklin’s action obeys a conventional gender stereotype: here Watson is the calm, reasoning man, and Franklin is the hot-tempered, emotional woman, even as the battle they are fighting concerns the interpretation of scientific data.

Franklin is described as advancing towards Watson in an aggressive way as Watson retreats. Watson’s impression is that Franklin may strike him, but her actual intentions and feelings at this point remain unknown. That Franklin is presented as the aggressor is quite convenient, as it takes the narrative focus away from the problematic fact that in the next scene Wilkins shows Franklin’s evidence to Watson, without her approval. 

“A structure this pretty just had to exist.” 

This is a statement that repeats itself in several forms throughout The Double Helix. Its first appearance is in Watson’s Preface, where he says he hoped that “the truth, once found, would be simple, as well as pretty.” The molecule structure they discovered is simple in its regularity, but what does it mean to say the structure is “pretty”?

“It has not escaped our notice that the specific pairing we have postulated immediately suggests a possible copying mechanism for the genetic material.”  

The line is quoted from Watson and Crick’s famous article in the publication Nature, which announced their discovery. Notice the register is different to Watson’s own more informal style. These are the carefully measured words of professional scientists. There is still though a hint of personality, especially when read in the context of The Double Helix. There is an elegance and assurance in the turn of phrase. Considering all that their findings imply, it is beautifully understated.