Conjugated polymers based on metalla-aromatic building blocks

Conjugated polymers usually require strategies to expand the range of wavelengths absorbed and increase solubility. Developing effective strategies to enhance both properties remains challenging. Herein, we report syntheses of conjugated polymers based on a family of metalla-aromatic building blocks via a polymerization method involving consecutive carbyne shuttling processes. The involvement of metal d orbitals in aromatic systems efficiently reduces band gaps and enriches the electron transition pathways of the chromogenic repeat unit. These enable metalla-aromatic conjugated polymers to exhibit broad and strong ultraviolet–visible (UV–Vis) absorption bands. Bulky ligands on the metal suppress π–π stacking of polymer chains and thus increase solubility. These conjugated polymers show robust stability toward light, heat, water, and air. Kinetic studies using NMR experiments and UV–Vis spectroscopy, coupled with the isolation of well-defined model oligomers, revealed the polymerization mechanism.

Conjugated polymers are macromolecules usually featuring a backbone chain with alternating double and single bonds (1–3). These characteristics allow the overlapping p-orbitals to form a system with highly delocalized π-electrons, thereby giving rise to intriguing chemical and physical properties (4–6). They have exhibited many applications in organic light-emitting diodes, organic thin film transistors, organic photovoltaic cells, chemical sensors, bioimaging and therapies, photocatalysis, and other technologies (7–10). To facilitate the use of solar energy, tremendous efforts have been devoted in recent decades to developing previously unidentified conjugated polymers exhibiting broad and strong absorption bands (11–13). The common strategies for increasing absorption involve extending π-conjugation by incorporating conjugated cyclic moieties, especially fused rings; modulating the strength of intramolecular charge transfer between donor and acceptor units (D–A effect); increasing the coplanarity of π conjugation through weak intramolecular interactions (e.g., hydrogen bonds); and introducing heteroatoms or heavy atoms into the repeat units of conjugated polymers (11–16). Additionally, appropriate solubility is a prerequisite for processing and using polymers and is usually achieved with the aid of long alkyl or alkoxy side chains (12, 17).Aromatic rings are among the most important building blocks for conjugated polymers. In addition to aromatic hydrocarbons, a variety of aromatic heterocycles composed of main-group elements have been used as fundamental components. These heteroatom-containing conjugated polymers show unique optical and electronic properties (4–10). However, while metalla-aromatic systems bearing a transition metal have been known since 1979 due to the pioneering work by Thorn and Hoffmann (18), none of them have been used as building blocks for conjugated polymers. The HOMO–LUMO gaps (E_g) of metalla-aromatics are generally narrower (Fig. 1) than those of their organic counterparts (19–22). We reasoned that this feature should broaden the absorption window if polymers stemming from metalla-aromatics are achievable.Open in a separate windowFig. 1.Comparison of traditional organic skeletons with metalla-aromatic building blocks (the computed energies are in eV). (A) HOMO–LUMO gaps of classic aromatic skeletons. (B) Carbolong frameworks as potential building blocks for novel conjugated polymers with broad absorption bands and improved solubility.In recent years, we have reported a series of readily accessible metal-bridged bicyclic/polycyclic aromatics, namely carbolong complexes, which are stable in air and moisture (23–25). The addition of osmium carbynes (in carbolong complexes) and alkynes gave rise to an intriguing family of d_π–p_π conjugated systems, which function as excellent electron transport layer materials in organic solar cells (26, 27). These observations raised the following question: Can this efficient addition reaction be used to access metalla-aromatic conjugated polymers? It is noteworthy that incorporation of metalla-aromatic units into conjugated polymers is hitherto unknown. In this contribution, we disclose a polymerization reaction involving M≡C analogs of C≡C bonds, which involves a unique carbyne shuttling strategy (Fig. 2A). This led to examples of metalla-aromatic conjugated polymers (polycarbolongs) featuring metal carbyne units in the main chain. On the other hand, the development of polymerization reactions plays a crucial role in involving certain building blocks in conjugated polymers (28–32). These efficient, specific, and feasible polymerizations could open an avenue for the synthesis of conjugated polymers.Open in a separate windowFig. 2.Design of polymers and synthesis of monomers. (A) Schematic illustration of the polymerization strategy. (B) Preparation of carbolong monomers. Insert: X-ray molecular structure for the cations of complex 3. Ellipsoids are shown at the 50% probability level; phenyl groups in PPh₃ are omitted for clarity.     

Three-dimensionally preserved minute larva of a great-appendage arthropod from the early Cambrian Chengjiang biota

A three-dimensionally preserved 2-mm-long larva of the arthropod Leanchoilia illecebrosa from the 520-million-year-old early Cambrian Chengjiang biota of China represents the first evidence, to our knowledge, of such an early developmental stage in a short-great-appendage (SGA) arthropod. The larva possesses a pair of three-fingered great appendages, a hypostome, and four pairs of well-developed biramous appendages. More posteriorly, a series of rudimentary limb Anlagen revealed by X-ray microcomputed tomography shows a gradient of decreasing differentiation toward the rear. This, and postembryonic segment addition at the putative growth zone, are features of late-stage metanauplii of eucrustaceans. L. illecebrosa and other SGA arthropods, however, are considered representative of early chelicerates or part of the stem lineage of all euarthropods. The larva of an early Cambrian SGA arthropod with a small number of anterior segments and their respective appendages suggests that posthatching segment addition occurred in the ancestor of Euarthropoda.Evolutionary developmental biology (evo-devo) explains evolutionary changes in different organisms by investigating their developmental processes (1). Paleontology contributes to evo-devo by providing information that is only available in fossil organisms (2). Studies of evolutionary development in fossil arthropods, which have dominated faunas from the early Cambrian (∼520 million years ago) to the present, have focused on trilobites (3), “Orsten”-type fossil crustaceans (4–6), and Mesozoic malacostracan crustaceans (7). Due to their small size and low preservation potential, fossil evidence of the appendages of early developmental stages of arthropods are rare, and known mainly from those with the special “Orsten” type of preservation (8), i.e., with the cuticle secondarily phosphatized, from the mid-Cambrian (500–497 million years ago) (9).Here we describe an exceptionally preserved early developmental stage of a Cambrian arthropod from the Chengjiang biota of China. The specimen is only 2 mm long and is three-dimensionally preserved (Fig. 1, Insets). We interpret this specimen as a representative of the short-great-appendage (SGA) arthropod Leanchoilia illecebrosa—the most abundant SGA arthropod from this biota (10). SGA arthropods form a distinct early group characterized by prominent anteriormost appendages specialized for sensory (11) or feeding purposes (11, 12). Thus far, knowledge of L. illecebrosa is based mainly on adult specimens with a body length ranging from 20 to 46 mm (13) (Fig. 1). Specimens smaller than 20 mm are rare—only two examples, both 8 mm long, have been reported (8, 12) (Fig. S1B).Open in a separate windowFig. 1.L. illecebrosa from the Chengjiang biota. Macrophotographs of an adult (specimen YKLP 11087) and the minute larva (Insets; specimen YKLP 11088a, b). cs, cephalic shield; rs, rostrum; sga, short great appendage; ts1 and ts11, trunk segments 1 and 11; te, telson. Insets are to the same scale as main image. (Scale bar: 5 mm.)Open in a separate windowFig. S1.Two larval stages of L. illecebrosa. (A) The 2-mm-long larva described here (specimen YKLP 11088a, b). (B) An 8-mm-long larva previously reported in ref. 12 (specimen YKLP 11084a, b; reprinted with permission from ref. 12). (Scale bar: 2 mm.)     

Electrophilic aromatic substitution reactions of compounds with Craig-Möbius aromaticity

Electrophilic aromatic substitution (EAS) reactions are widely regarded as characteristic reactions of aromatic species, but no comparable reaction has been reported for molecules with Craig-Möbius aromaticity. Here, we demonstrate successful EAS reactions of Craig-Möbius aromatics, osmapentalenes, and fused osmapentalenes. The highly reactive nature of osmapentalene makes it susceptible to electrophilic attack by halogens, thus osmapentalene, osmafuran-fused osmapentalene, and osmabenzene-fused osmapentalene can undergo typical EAS reactions. In addition, the selective formation of a series of halogen substituted metalla-aromatics via EAS reactions has revealed an unprecedented approach to otherwise elusive compounds such as the unsaturated cyclic chlorirenium ions. Density functional theory calculations were conducted to study the electronic effect on the regioselectivity of the EAS reactions.

Aromaticity, a core concept in chemistry, was initially introduced to account for the bonding, stability, reactivity, and other properties of many unsaturated organic compounds. There have been many elaborations and extensions of the concept of aromaticity (1, 2). The concepts of Hückel aromaticity and Möbius aromaticity are widely accepted (Fig. 1A). A π-aromatic molecule of the Hückel type is planar and has 4n + 2 conjugated π-electrons (n = 0 or an integer), whereas a Möbius aromatic molecule has one twist of the π-system, similar to that in a Möbius strip, and 4n π-electrons (3, 4). Since the discovery of naphthalene in 1821, aromatic chemistry has developed into a rich field and with a variety of subdisciplines over the course of its 200-y history, and the concept of aromaticity has been extended to other nontraditional structures with “cyclic delocalization of mobile electrons” (5). For example, benzene-like metallacycles—predicted by Hoffmann et al. as metallabenzenes—in which a metal replaces a C–H group in the benzene ring (6), have garnered extensive research interest from both experimentalists and theoreticians (7–12). As paradigms of the metalla-aromatic family, most complexes involving metallabenzene exhibit thermodynamic stability, kinetic persistence, and chemical reactivity associated with the classical aromaticity concept (13–15). Typically, like benzene, metallabenzene can undergo characteristic reactions of aromatics such as electrophilic aromatic substitution (EAS) reactions (16–18) (Fig. 1B, I) and nucleophilic aromatic substitution reactions (19–21).Open in a separate windowFig. 1.Schematic representations of aromaticity classification (A) and EAS reactions (B) of benzene, metallabenzene, and polycyclic metallacycles with Craig-Möbius aromaticity.The incorporation of transition metals has also led to an increase in the variety of the aromatic families (22–25). We have reported that stable and highly unusual bicyclic systems, metallapentalenes (osmapentalenes), benefit from Craig-Möbius aromaticity (26–30). In contrast to other reported Möbius aromatic compounds with twisted topologies, which are known as Heilbronner-Möbius aromatics (31–34), the involvement of transition metal d orbitals in π-conjugation switches the Hückel anti-aromaticity of pentalene into the planar Craig-Möbius aromaticity of metallapentalene (35–38) (Fig. 1A, III). Both the twisted topology and the planar Craig-Möbius aromaticity are well established and have been accepted as reasonable extensions of aromaticity (39–43). There has been no experimental evidence, however, as to whether these Möbius aromatic molecules can undergo classical aromatic substitution reactions, such as EAS reactions, instead of addition reactions. Given the key role of EAS in aromatic chemistry to obtain various derivatives, we sought to extend the understanding of the reactivity paradigm in the metalla-aromatic family.Our recent synthetic efforts associated with the metallapentalene system prompted us to investigate whether typical EAS reactions could proceed in these Craig-Möbius aromatics. If so, how could substitution be achieved in the same way that it is with traditional Hückel aromatics such as benzenes? In this paper, we present EAS reactions, mainly the halogenation of osmapentalene, osmafuran-fused osmapentalene, and osmabenzene-fused osmapentalene, which follow the classic EAS mechanistic scheme (Fig. 1B). With the aid of density functional theory (DFT) calculations, we characterized the effects on EAS reactivity and regioselectivity.     

North American tree migration paced by climate in the West,lagging in the East

Tree fecundity and recruitment have not yet been quantified at scales needed to anticipate biogeographic shifts in response to climate change. By separating their responses, this study shows coherence across species and communities, offering the strongest support to date that migration is in progress with regional limitations on rates. The southeastern continent emerges as a fecundity hotspot, but it is situated south of population centers where high seed production could contribute to poleward population spread. By contrast, seedling success is highest in the West and North, serving to partially offset limited seed production near poleward frontiers. The evidence of fecundity and recruitment control on tree migration can inform conservation planning for the expected long-term disequilibrium between climate and forest distribution.

Effective planning for the redistribution of habitats from climate change will depend on understanding demographic rates that control population spread at continental scales. Mobile species are moving, some migrating poleward (1, 2) and/or upward in elevation (3, 4). Species redistribution is also predicted for sessile, long-lived trees that provide the resource and structural foundation for global forest biodiversity (5–7), but their movement is harder to study. Contemporary range shifts are recognized primarily where contractions have followed extensive die-backs (8) or where local changes occur along compact climate gradients in steep terrain (9, 10). Whether migration capacity can pace habitat shifts of hundreds of kilometers on decade time scales depends on seed production and juvenile recruitment (Fig. 1A), which have not been fitted to data in ways that can be incorporated in models to anticipate biogeographic change (11–13). For example, do the regions of rapid warming coincide with locations where species can produce abundant seed (Fig. 1B)? If so, does seed production translate to juvenile recruitment? Here, we combine continent-wide fecundity estimates from the Masting Inference and Forecasting (MASTIF) network (13) with tree inventories to identify North American hotspots for recruitment and find that species are well-positioned to track warming in the West and North, but not in parts of the East.Open in a separate windowFig. 1.Transitions, hypothesized effects on spread, and sites. (A) Population spread from trees (BA) to new recruits is controlled by fecundity (seed mass per BA) followed by recruitment (recruits per seed mass). (B) The CTH that warming has stimulated fecundity ahead of the center of adult distributions, which reflect climate changes of recent decades. Arrows indicate how centroids from trees to fecundity to recruitment could be displaced poleward with warming climate. (C) The RSH that cold-sensitive fecundity is optimal where minimum temperatures are warmer than for adult trees and, thus, may slow northward migration. The two hypotheses are not mutually exclusive. B and C refer to the probability densities of the different life stages. (D) MASTIF sites are summarized in SI Appendix, Table S2.2 by eco-regions: mixed forest (greens), montane (blues), grass/shrub/desert (browns), and taiga (blue-green).Suitable habitats for many species are projected to shift hundreds of kilometers in a matter of decades (14, 15). While climate effects on tree mortality are increasingly apparent (16–19), advances into new habitats are not (20–23). For example, natural populations of Pinus taeda may be sustained only if the Northeast can be occupied as habitats are lost in the South (Fig. 2). Current estimates of tree migration inferred from geographic comparisons of juvenile and adult trees have been inconclusive (2, 7, 21, 24, 25). Ambiguous results are to be expected if fecundity and juvenile success do not respond to change in the same ways (20, 26–29). Moreover, seedling abundances (7, 30) do not provide estimates of recruitment rates because seedlings may reside in seedling banks for decades, or they may turn over annually (31–33). Another method based on geographic shifts in population centers calculated from tree inventories (3, 34) does not separate the effects of mortality from recruitment, i.e., the balance of losses in some regions against gains in others. The example in Fig. 2 is consistent with an emerging consensus that suitable habitats are moving fast (2, 14, 15), even if population frontiers are not, highlighting the need for methods that can identify recruitment limitation on population spread. Management for forest products and conservation goals under transient conditions can benefit from an understanding of recruitment limitation that comes from seed supply, as opposed to seedling survival (35).Open in a separate windowFig. 2.Suitable habitats redistribute with decade-scale climate change for P. taeda (BA units m² /ha). (Suitability is not a prediction of abundance, but rather, it is defined for climate and habitat variables included in a model, to be modified by management and disturbance [e.g., fire]. By providing habitat suitability in units of BA, it can be related it to the observation scale for the data.) Predictive distributions for suitability under current (A) and change expected from mid-21^st-century climate scenario Representative Concentration Pathway 4.5 (B) showing habitat declines in the Southwest and East. Specific climate changes important for this example include net increases in aridity in the southeast (especially summer) and western frontier and warming to the North. Occupation of improving habitats depends on fecundity in northern parts of the range and how it is responding. Obtained with Generalized Joint Attribute Modeling (see Materials and Methods for more information).We hypothesized two ways in which fecundity and recruitment could slow or accelerate population spread. Contemporary forests were established under climates that prevailed decades to centuries ago. These climate changes combine with habitat variables to affect seeds, seedlings, and adults in different ways (36, 37). The “climate-tracking hypothesis” (CTH) proposes that, after decades of warming and changing moisture availability (Fig. 3 A and B), seed production for many species has shifted toward the northern frontiers of the range, thus primed for poleward spread. “Fecundity,” the transition from tree basal area (BA) to seed density on the landscape (Fig. 1A), is taken on a mass basis (kg/m² BA) as a more accurate index of reproductive effort than seed number (38, 39). “Recruitment,” the transition from seed density to recruit density (recruits per kg seed), may have also shifted poleward, amplifying the impact of poleward shifts in fecundity on the capacity for poleward spread (Fig. 1B). Under CTH, the centers for adult abundance, fecundity, and recruitment are ordered from south to north in Fig. 1B as might be expected if each life-history stage leads the previous stage in a poleward migration.Open in a separate windowFig. 3.Climate change and tracking. (A) Mean annual temperatures since 1990 have increased rapidly in the Southwest and much of the North. (Zero-change contour line is in red.) (B) Moisture deficit index (monthly potential evapotranspiration minus P summed over 12 mo) has increased in much of the West. (Climate sources are listed in SI Appendix.) (C) Fecundity (kg seed per BA summed over species) is high in the Southeast. (D) Recruits per kg seed (square-root transformed) is highest in the Northeast. (E and F) Geographic displacement of 81 species show transitions in Fig. 1A, as arrows from centroids for adult BA to fecundity (E) and from fecundity to recruitment (F). Blue arrows point north; red arrows point south. Consistent with the RSH (Fig. 1B), most species centered in the East and Northwest have fecundity centroids south of adult distributions (red arrows in E). Consistent with the CTH, species of the interior West have fecundity centroids northwest of adults (blue arrows). Recruitment is shifted north of fecundity for most species (blue arrows in F). SI Appendix, Fig. S2 shows that uncertainty in vectors is low.The “reproductive-sensitivity hypothesis” (RSH) proposes that recruitment may limit population growth in cold parts of the range (Fig. 1C), where fecundity and/or seedling survival is already low. Cold-sensitive reproduction in plants includes late frost that can disrupt flowering, pollination, and/or seed development, suggesting that poleward population frontiers tend to be seed-limited (40–44). While climate warming could reduce the negative impacts of low temperatures, especially at northern frontiers, these regions still experience the lowest temperatures. The view of cold-sensitive fecundity as a continuing rate-limiting step, i.e., that has not responded to warming in Fig. 1C, is intended to contrast with the case where warming has alleviated temperature limitation in Fig. 1B. Lags can result if cold-sensitive recruitment naturally limits growth at high-latitude/high-altitude population frontiers (Fig. 1C). In this case, reproductive sensitivity may delay the pace of migration to an extent that depends on fecundity, recruitment, or both at poleward frontiers. The arrows in Fig. 1C depict a case where optimal fecundity is equator-ward of optimal growth and recruitment. The precise location of recruitment relative to fecundity in Fig. 1C will depend on all of the direct and indirect effects of climate, including through seed and seedling predators and disturbances like fire. Fig. 1C depicts one of many hypothetical examples to show that climate variables might have opposing effects on fecundity and recruitment.Both CTH and RSH can apply to both temperature and moisture; the latter is here quantified as cumulative moisture deficit between potential evapotranspiration and precipitation, D=∑m=112(PETm−Pm) for month m, derived from the widely used Standardized Precipitation Evapotranspiration Index (45). Whereas latitude dominates temperature gradients and longitude is important for moisture in the East, gradients are complicated by steep terrain in the West, with temperature tending to decline and moisture increase with elevation.We quantified the transitions that control population spread, from adult trees (BA) to fecundity (seeds per BA) to recruitment (recruits per kg seed) (Fig. 1A–C). Fecundity observations are needed to establish the link between trees and recruits in the migration process. They must be available at the tree scale across the continent because seed production depends on tree species and size, local habitat, and climate for all of the dominant species and size classes (13, 46). These estimates are not sufficient in themselves, because migration depends on seed production per area, not per tree. The per-area estimates come from individual seed production and dispersal from trees on inventory plots that monitor all trees that occupy a fixed sample area. Fecundity estimates were obtained in the MASTIF project (13) from 211,000 (211K) individual trees and 2.5 million (2.5M) tree-years from 81 species. We used a model that accommodates individual tree size, species, and environment and the codependence between trees and over time (Fig. 1C). In other words, it allows valid inference on fecundity, the quasisynchronous, quasiperiodic seed production typical of many species (47). The fitted model was then used to generate a predictive distribution of fecundity for each of 7.6M trees on 170K forest inventory plots across the United States and Canada. Because trees are modeled together, we obtain fecundity estimates per plot and, thus, per area. BA (m² /ha) of adult trees and new recruits into the smallest diameter class allowed us to determine fecundity as kg seed per m² BA and recruitment per kg seed, i.e., each of the transitions in Fig. 1A.Recruitment rates, rather than juvenile abundances, come from the transitions from seedlings to sapling stages. The lag between seed production and recruitment does not allow for comparisons on an annual basis; again, residence times in a seedling bank can span decades. Instead, we focus on geographic variation in mean rates of fecundity and recruitment.We summarized the geographic distributions for each transition as 1) the mean transition rates across all species and 2) the geographic centroids (central tendency) for each species as weighted-average locations, where weights are the demographic transitions (BA to fecundity, fecundity to recruitment, and BA to recruitment). We analyzed central tendency, or centroids (e.g., refs. 3 and 34) because range limits cannot be accurately identified on the basis of small inventory plots (21). If fecundity is not limiting poleward spread (CTH of Fig. 1B), then fecundity centroids are expected to be displaced poleward from the adult population. If reproductive sensitivity dominates population spread (RSH of Fig. 1C), then fecundity and/or recruitment centroids will be displaced equator-ward from adult BA. The same comparisons between fecundity and recruitment determine the contribution of recruitment to spread.     

Little evidence for enhanced phenotypic evolution in early teleosts relative to their living fossil sister group

Since Darwin, biologists have been struck by the extraordinary diversity of teleost fishes, particularly in contrast to their closest “living fossil” holostean relatives. Hypothesized drivers of teleost success include innovations in jaw mechanics, reproductive biology and, particularly at present, genomic architecture, yet all scenarios presuppose enhanced phenotypic diversification in teleosts. We test this key assumption by quantifying evolutionary rate and capacity for innovation in size and shape for the first 160 million y (Permian–Early Cretaceous) of evolution in neopterygian fishes (the more extensive clade containing teleosts and holosteans). We find that early teleosts do not show enhanced phenotypic evolution relative to holosteans. Instead, holostean rates and innovation often match or can even exceed those of stem-, crown-, and total-group teleosts, belying the living fossil reputation of their extant representatives. In addition, we find some evidence for heterogeneity within the teleost lineage. Although stem teleosts excel at discovering new body shapes, early crown-group taxa commonly display higher rates of shape evolution. However, the latter reflects low rates of shape evolution in stem teleosts relative to all other neopterygian taxa, rather than an exceptional feature of early crown teleosts. These results complement those emerging from studies of both extant teleosts as a whole and their sublineages, which generally fail to detect an association between genome duplication and significant shifts in rates of lineage diversification.Numbering ∼29,000 species, teleost fishes account for half of modern vertebrate richness. In contrast, their holostean sister group, consisting of gars and the bowfin, represents a mere eight species restricted to the freshwaters of eastern North America (1). This stark contrast between teleosts and Darwin''s original “living fossils” (2) provides the basis for assertions of teleost evolutionary superiority that are central to textbook scenarios (3, 4). Classic explanations for teleost success include key innovations in feeding (3, 5) (e.g., protrusible jaws and pharyngeal jaws) and reproduction (6, 7). More recent work implicates the duplicate genomes of teleosts (8–10) as the driver of their prolific phenotypic diversification (8, 11–13), concordant with the more general hypothesis that increased morphological complexity and innovation is an expected consequence of genome duplication (14, 15).Most arguments for enhanced phenotypic evolution in teleosts have been asserted rather than demonstrated (8, 11, 12, 15, 16; but see ref. 17), and draw heavily on the snapshot of taxonomic and phenotypic imbalance apparent between living holosteans and teleosts. The fossil record challenges this neontological narrative by revealing the remarkable taxonomic richness and morphological diversity of extinct holosteans (Fig. 1) (18, 19) and highlights geological intervals when holostean taxonomic richness exceeded that of teleosts (20). This paleontological view has an extensive pedigree. Darwin (2) invoked a long interval of cryptic teleost evolution preceding the late Mesozoic diversification of the modern radiation, a view subsequently supported by the implicit (18) or explicit (19) association of Triassic–Jurassic species previously recognized as “holostean ganoids” with the base of teleost phylogeny. This perspective became enshrined in mid-20th century treatments of actinopterygian evolution, which recognized an early-mid Mesozoic phase dominated by holosteans sensu lato and a later interval, extending to the modern day, dominated by teleosts (4, 20, 21). Contemporary paleontological accounts echo the classic interpretation of modest teleost origins (22–24), despite a systematic framework that substantially revises the classifications upon which older scenarios were based (22–25). Identification of explosive lineage diversification in nested teleost subclades like otophysans and percomorphs, rather than across the group as a whole, provides some circumstantial neontological support for this narrative (26).Open in a separate windowFig. 1.Phenotypic variation in early crown neopterygians. (A) Total-group holosteans. (B) Stem-group teleosts. (C) Crown-group teleosts. Taxa illustrated to scale.In contrast to quantified taxonomic patterns (20, 23, 24, 27), phenotypic evolution in early neopterygians has only been discussed in qualitative terms. The implicit paleontological model of morphological conservatism among early teleosts contrasts with the observation that clades aligned with the teleost stem lineage include some of the most divergent early neopterygians in terms of both size and shape (Fig. 1) (see, for example, refs. 28 and 29). These discrepancies point to considerable ambiguity in initial patterns of phenotypic diversification that lead to a striking contrast in the vertebrate tree of life, and underpins one of the most successful radiations of backboned animals.Here we tackle this uncertainty by quantifying rates of phenotypic evolution and capacity for evolutionary innovation for the first 160 million y of the crown neopterygian radiation. This late Permian (Wuchiapingian, ca. 260 Ma) to Cretaceous (Albian, ca. 100 Ma) sampling interval permits incorporation of diverse fossil holosteans and stem teleosts alongside early diverging crown teleost taxa (Figs. 1 and ​and2A2A and Figs. S1 and ​andS2),S2), resulting in a dataset of 483 nominal species-level lineages roughly divided between the holostean and teleost total groups (Fig. 2B and Fig. S2). Although genera are widely used as the currency in paleobiological studies of fossil fishes (30; but see ref. 31), we sampled at the species level to circumvent problems associated with representing geological age and morphology for multiple congeneric lineages. We gathered size [both log-transformed standard length (SL) and centroid size (CS); results from both are highly comparable (Figs. S3 and ​andS4);S4); SL results are reported in the main text] and shape data (the first three morphospace axes arising from a geometric morphometric analysis) (Fig. 2A and Figs. S1) from species where possible. To place these data within a phylogenetic context, we assembled a supertree based on published hypotheses of relationships. We assigned branch durations to a collection of trees under two scenarios for the timescale of neopterygian diversification based on molecular clock and paleontological estimates. Together, these scenarios bracket a range of plausible evolutionary timelines for this radiation (Fig. 2B). We used the samples of trees in conjunction with our morphological datasets to test for contrasts in rates of, and capacity for, phenotypic change between different partitions of the neopterygian Tree of Life (crown-, total-, and stem-group teleosts, total-group holosteans, and neopterygians minus crown-group teleosts), and the sensitivity of these conclusions to uncertainty in both relationships and evolutionary timescale. Critically, these include comparisons of phenotypic evolution in early crown-group teleosts—those species that are known with certainty to possess duplicate genomes—with rates in taxa characterized largely (neopterygians minus crown teleosts) or exclusively (holosteans) by unduplicated genomes. By restricting our scope to early diverging crown teleost lineages, we avoid potentially confounding signals from highly nested radiations that substantially postdate both genome duplication and the origin of crown teleosts (26, 32). This approach provides a test of widely held assumptions about the nature of morphological evolution in teleosts and their holostean sister lineage.Open in a separate windowFig. 2.(A) Morphospace of Permian–Early Cretaceous crown Neopterygii. (B) One supertree subjected to our paleontological (Upper) and molecular (Lower) timescaling procedures to illustrate contrasts in the range of evolutionary timescales considered. Colors of points (A) and branches (B) indicate membership in major partitions of neopterygian phylogeny. Topologies are given in Datasets S4 and S5. See Dataset S6 for source trees.Open in a separate windowFig. S1.Morphospace of 398 Permian–Early Cretaceous Neopterygii. Three major axes of shape variation are presented. Silhouettes and accompanying arrows illustrate the main anatomical correlates of these principal axes, as described in Open in a separate windowFig. S2.Morphospace of 398 Permian–Early Cretaceous Neopterygii, illustrating the major clades of (A) teleosts and (B) holosteans.Open in a separate windowFig. S3.Comparisons of size rates between (A) holosteans and teleosts, (B) crown teleosts and all other neopterygians, (C) crown teleosts and stem teleosts, (D) crown teleosts and holosteans, and (E) stem teleosts and holosteans. Comparisons were made using the full-size SL dataset, a CS dataset, and a smaller SL dataset pruned to exactly match the taxon sampling of the CS dataset. Identical taxon sampling leads the CS and pruned SL datasets to yield near identical results. Although the larger SL dataset results often differ slightly, the overall conclusion from each pairwise comparison (i.e., which outcome is the most likely in an overall majority of trees) is identical in all but one comparison (E, under molecular timescales).Open in a separate windowFig. S4.Comparisons of size innovation between (A) holosteans and teleosts, (B) crown teleosts and all other neopterygians, (C) crown teleosts and stem teleosts, (D) crown teleosts and holosteans, and (E) stem teleosts and holosteans. Comparisons were made using the full-size SL dataset, a CS dataset, and a smaller SL dataset pruned to exactly match the taxon sampling of the CS dataset. Comparisons of size innovation are presented for K value distributions of the three datasets resemble each other closely.     

Diffusion of a disordered protein on its folded ligand

Intrinsically disordered proteins often form dynamic complexes with their ligands. Yet, the speed and amplitude of these motions are hidden in classical binding kinetics. Here, we directly measure the dynamics in an exceptionally mobile, high-affinity complex. We show that the disordered tail of the cell adhesion protein E-cadherin dynamically samples a large surface area of the protooncogene β-catenin. Single-molecule experiments and molecular simulations resolve these motions with high resolution in space and time. Contacts break and form within hundreds of microseconds without a dissociation of the complex. The energy landscape of this complex is rugged with many small barriers (3 to 4 k_BT) and reconciles specificity, high affinity, and extreme disorder. A few persistent contacts provide specificity, whereas unspecific interactions boost affinity.

Specific molecular interactions orchestrate a multitude of simultaneous cellular processes. The discovery of intrinsically disordered proteins (IDPs) (1, 2) has substantially aided our understanding of such interactions. More than two decades of research revealed a plethora of functions and mechanisms (2–6) that complemented the prevalent structure-based view on protein interactions. Even the idea that IDPs always ought to fold upon binding has largely been dismantled by recent discoveries of high-affine–disordered complexes (7, 8). Classical shape complementary is indeed superfluous in the complex between prothymosin-α and histone H1, in which charge complementary is the main driving force for binding (7). However, complexes between IDPs and folded proteins can also be highly dynamic [e.g., Sic1 and Cdc4 (9), the Na⁺/H⁺ exchanger tail and ERK2 (10), nucleoporin tails, and nuclear transport receptors (11)]. Yet timescales of motions and their spatial amplitudes are often elusive, such that it is unclear how precisely the surfaces of folded proteins alter the dynamics of bound IDPs. Answering this question is a key step in understanding how specificity, affinity, and flexibility can be simultaneously realized in such complexes.To address this question, we focused on the dynamics of the cell adhesion complex between E-cadherin (E-cad) and β-catenin (β-cat), which is involved in growth pathologies and cancer (12). E-cad is a transmembrane protein that mediates cell–cell adhesions by linking actin filaments of adjacent epithelial cells (Fig. 1A). Previous NMR results showed that the cytoplasmic tail of E-cad is intrinsically disordered (13). E-cad binds β-cat, which establishes a connection to the actin-associated protein α-catenin (14–16). β-cat, on the other hand, is a multifunctional repeat protein (17–20) that mediates cadherin-based cell adhesions (21) and governs cell fate decisions during embryogenesis (22). It contains three domains: an N-terminal domain (130 amino acids [aa]), a central repeat domain (550 aa), and a C-terminal domain (100 aa). Whereas the N- and C-terminal domains of β-cat are in large parts unstructured (17), with little effect on the affinity of the E-cad/β-cat complex (23), the 12 repeats of the central domain arrange in a superhelix (24). The X-ray structure showed that the E-cad wraps around this central domain of β-cat (24) (Fig. 1B). However, not only is half of the electron density of E-cad missing, the X-ray unit cell also comprises two structures with different resolved parts of E-cad (Fig. 1B). In fact, only 45% of all resolved E-cad residues are found in both structures (Fig. 1C). Although this ambiguity together with the large portion of missing residues (25) suggests that E-cad is highly dynamic in the complex with β-cat, the timescales and amplitudes of these dynamics are unknown.Open in a separate windowFig. 1.Complex between the cytoplasmic tail of E-cad and β-cat. (A) Schematics of cell–cell junctions mediated by E-cad and β-cat. (B) The two X-ray structures of the complex between the tail of E-cad (red) and the central repeat domain of β-cat (white) resolve different parts of E-cad (Protein Data Bank: 1i7x), indicating the flexibility of E-cad in the complex. (Bottom) Cartoon representation of the resolved E-cad parts. (C) Scheme showing the resolved parts of E-cad (red).Here, we integrated single-molecule Förster resonance energy transfer (smFRET) experiments with molecular simulations to directly measure the dynamics of E-cad on β-cat with high spatial and temporal resolution. In our bottom-up strategy, we first probed intramolecular interactions within E-cad using smFRET to parameterize a coarse-grained (CG) model. In a second step, we monitored E-cad on β-cat, integrated this information into the CG model, and obtained a dynamic picture of the complex. We found that all segments of E-cad diffuse on the surface of β-cat at submillisecond timescales and obtained a residue-resolved understanding of these motions: A small number of persistent interactions provide specificity, whereas many weak multivalent contacts boost affinity, which confirms the idea that regulatory enzymes access their recognition motifs on E-cad and β-cat without requiring the complex to dissociate (24).     

CO and CN? syntheses by [FeFe]-hydrogenase maturase HydG are catalytically differentiated events

The synthesis and assembly of the active site [FeFe] unit of [FeFe]-hydrogenases require at least three maturases. The radical S-adenosyl-l-methionine HydG, the best characterized of these proteins, is responsible for the synthesis of the hydrogenase CO and CN⁻ ligands from tyrosine-derived dehydroglycine (DHG). We speculated that CN⁻ and the CO precursor ⁻:CO₂H may be generated through an elimination reaction. We tested this hypothesis with both wild type and HydG variants defective in second iron-sulfur cluster coordination by measuring the in vitro production of CO, CN⁻, and ⁻:CO₂H-derived formate. We indeed observed formate production under these conditions. We conclude that HydG is a multifunctional enzyme that produces DHG, CN⁻, and CO at three well-differentiated catalytic sites. We also speculate that homocysteine, cysteine, or a related ligand could be involved in Fe(CO)_x(CN)_y transfer to the HydF carrier/scaffold.Many microorganisms can either oxidize molecular hydrogen or reduce protons according to the reaction H₂ = 2H⁺ + 2 e⁻. The enzymes that catalyze this reaction fall into two phylogenetically unrelated groups, the [NiFe]- and [FeFe]-hydrogenases (1, 2). Initial crystallographic studies of the [FeFe]-hydrogenases from Clostridium pasteuranium (3) and Desulfovibrio desulfuricans (4) showed that the active site is composed of a conventional [4Fe-4S] cubane connected by a cysteine thiolate to a binuclear FeFe unit, in which each iron ion is terminally coordinated by one CN⁻ ligand and one CO ligand and by a third CO molecule that bridges the two metals (5). Unexpectedly, we also found that a small molecule first postulated (6), and now indirectly confirmed (7), to be dithiomethylamine (DTMA) bridges the two Fe ions (Fig. 1).Open in a separate windowFig. 1.[FeFe]-hydrogenase H-cluster from D. desulfuricans (6). Only the cysteine residue bridging the [4Fe-4S] and [FeFe] subsites is depicted as Cys. The cysteine ligands of the [4Fe-4S] cluster are shown as straight lines.The [4Fe-4S] cubane bridged to the binuclear [FeFe] unit has been collectively called the H-cluster (1). Work from several laboratories has shown that the maturation of the [FeFe] center requires at least three protein maturases: HydF that has GTPase activity and appears to be both a [FeFe] center scaffold and carrier (8, 9), HydG that synthesizes CO and CN⁻ from tyrosine (10–13), and HydE that, by elimination, should be involved in the synthesis of the DTMA bridge (14, 15). Both HydE and HydG are members of the large radical S-adenosyl-l-methionine (SAM) protein family (16, 17). With the recent reports of HydG crystal structures from Carboxydothermus hydrogenoformans (Ch) by us (18) and from Thermoanaerobacter italicus (Ti) by Dinis et al. (19), X-ray models are now available for the three maturases (20, 21); however, unambiguous structure-function relationships have been proposed only in the case of HydG. Indeed, site-directed mutational studies have shown that CO and CN⁻ syntheses are affected by either the deletion of the maturase C-terminal region, where a second iron-sulfur cluster binds (22), or Cys-to-Ser mutations in its corresponding CxxCx₂₂C binding motif (10, 13). In addition, it has been shown that HydG synthesizes Fe(CO)_x(CN)_y precursors (x = 1 or 2; y = 1) of the [FeFe] catalytic unit (23). The two HydG crystal structures are very similar at the SAM and [4Fe-4S] cluster-containing (β/α)₈ TIM-like barrel, common to several radical SAM proteins (16) (Fig. 2). Conversely, there are significant differences in the composition of the extra C-terminal second (s) iron-sulfur cluster. In our crystals, ChHydG lacks this center (18), whereas TiHydG coordinates a [4Fe-4S]_s cluster in one of the two molecules of the asymmetric unit and a second center with a fifth iron in the other molecule (19). This fifth iron has been described as being bound by His265, a putative alanine molecule and a sulfide bridge to a [4Fe-4S] unit coordinated by the CxxCx₂₂C motif. Two water molecules complete the octahedral Fe coordination (19). Here the different second cluster structures are collectively called [FeS]_s.Open in a separate windowFig. 2.Structures of (A) Ch HydG depicting tunnel I, the SAM cofactor, and [4Fe-4S] cluster (Top Right), the tyrosine active site cavity (Top Center), tunnel II, and the Cl⁻ binding cavity (Bottom Center) (18) and (B) Ti HydG with its additional second iron-sulfur cluster (19).     

INAUGURAL ARTICLE by a Recently Elected Academy Member:Chirality-matched catalyst-controlled macrocyclization reactions

Macrocycles, formally defined as compounds that contain a ring with 12 or more atoms, continue to attract great interest due to their important applications in physical, pharmacological, and environmental sciences. In syntheses of macrocyclic compounds, promoting intramolecular over intermolecular reactions in the ring-closing step is often a key challenge. Furthermore, syntheses of macrocycles with stereogenic elements confer an additional challenge, while access to such macrocycles are of great interest. Herein, we report the remarkable effect peptide-based catalysts can have in promoting efficient macrocyclization reactions. We show that the chirality of the catalyst is essential for promoting favorable, matched transition-state relationships that favor macrocyclization of substrates with preexisting stereogenic elements; curiously, the chirality of the catalyst is essential for successful reactions, even though no new static (i.e., not “dynamic”) stereogenic elements are created. Control experiments involving either achiral variants of the catalyst or the enantiomeric form of the catalyst fail to deliver the macrocycles in significant quantity in head-to-head comparisons. The generality of the phenomenon, demonstrated here with a number of substrates, stimulates analogies to enzymatic catalysts that produce naturally occurring macrocycles, presumably through related, catalyst-defined peripheral interactions with their acyclic substrates.

Macrocyclic compounds are known to perform a myriad of functions in the physical and biological sciences. From cyclodextrins that mediate analyte separations (1) to porphyrin cofactors that sit in enzyme active sites (2, 3) and to potent biologically active, macrocyclic natural products (4) and synthetic variants (5–7), these structures underpin a wide variety of molecular functions (Fig. 1A). In drug development, such compounds are highly coveted, as their conformationally restricted structures can lead to higher affinity for the desired target and often confer additional metabolic stability (8–13). Accordingly, there exists an entire synthetic chemistry enterprise focused on efficient formation and functionalization of macrocycles (14–18).Open in a separate windowFig. 1.(A) Examples of macrocyclic compounds with important applications. HCV, hepatitis C virus. (B) Use of chiral ligands in metal-catalyzed or mediated stereoselective macrocyclization reactions. (C) Remote desymmetrization using guanidinylated ligands via Ullmann coupling. (D) This work: use of copper/peptidyl complexes for macrocyclization and the exploration of matched and mismatched effect.In syntheses of macrocyclic compounds, the ring-closing step is often considered the most challenging step, as competing di- and oligomerization pathways must be overcome to favor the intramolecular reaction (14). High-dilution conditions are commonly employed to favor macrocyclization of linear precursors (19). Substrate preorganization can also play a key role in overcoming otherwise high entropic barriers associated with multiple conformational states that are not suited for ring formation. Such preorganization is most often achieved in synthetic chemistry through substrate design (14, 20–22). Catalyst or reagent controls that impose conformational benefits that favor ring formation are less well known. Yet, critical precedents include templating through metal-substrate complexation (23, 24), catalysis by foldamers (25) or enzymes (26–29), or, in rare instances, by small molecules (discussed below). Characterization of biosynthetic macrocyclization also points to related mechanistic issues and attributes for efficient macrocyclizations (30–34). Coupling macrocyclization reactions to the creation of stereogenic elements is also rare (35). Metal-mediated reactions have been applied toward stereoselective macrocyclizations wherein chiral ligands transmit stereochemical information to the products (Fig. 1B). For example, atroposelective ring closure via Heck coupling has been applied in the asymmetric total synthesis of isoplagiochin D by Speicher and coworkers (36–40). Similarly, atroposelective syntheses of (+)-galeon and other diarylether heptanoid natural products were achieved via Ullman coupling using N-methyl proline by Salih and Beaudry (41). Finally, Reddy and Corey reported the enantioselective syntheses of cyclic terpenes by In-catalyzed allylation utilizing a chiral prolinol-based ligand (42). While these examples collectively illustrate the utility of chiral ligands in stereoselective macrocyclizations, such examples remain limited.We envisioned a different role for chiral catalysts when addressing intrinsically disfavored macrocyclization reactions. When unfavorable macrocyclization reactions are confronted, we hypothesized that a catalyst–substrate interaction might provide transient conformational restriction that could promote macrocyclization. To address this question, we chose to explore whether or not a chiral catalyst-controlled macrocyclization might be possible with peptidyl copper complexes. In the context of the medicinally ubiquitous diarylmethane scaffold, we had previously demonstrated the capacity for remote asymmetric induction in a series of bimolecular desymmetrizations using bifunctional, tetramethylguanidinylated peptide ligands. For example, we showed that peptidyl copper complexes were able to differentiate between the two aryl bromides during C–C, C–O, and C–N cross-coupling reactions (Fig. 1C) (43–45). Moreover, in these intermolecular desymmetrizations, a correlation between enantioselectivity and conversion was observed, revealing the catalyst’s ability to perform not only enantiotopic group discrimination but also kinetic resolution on the monocoupled product as the reaction proceeds (44). This latter observation stimulated our speculation that if an internal nucleophile were present to undergo intramolecular cross-coupling to form a macrocycle, stereochemically sensitive interactions (so-called matched and mismatched effects) (46) could be observed (Fig. 1D). Ideally, we anticipated that transition state–stabilizing interactions might even prove decisive in matched cases, and the absence of catalyst–substrate stabilizing interactions might account for the absence of macrocyclization for these otherwise intrinsically unfavorable reactions. Herein, we disclose the explicit observation of these effects in chiral catalyst-controlled macrocyclization reactions.     

XerD-mediated FtsK-independent integration of TLC? into the Vibrio cholerae genome

As in most bacteria, topological problems arising from the circularity of the two Vibrio cholerae chromosomes, chrI and chrII, are resolved by the addition of a crossover at a specific site of each chromosome, dif, by two tyrosine recombinases, XerC and XerD. The reaction is under the control of a cell division protein, FtsK, which activates the formation of a Holliday Junction (HJ) intermediate by XerD catalysis that is resolved into product by XerC catalysis. Many plasmids and phages exploit Xer recombination for dimer resolution and for integration, respectively. In all cases so far described, they rely on an alternative recombination pathway in which XerC catalyzes the formation of a HJ independently of FtsK. This is notably the case for CTXϕ, the cholera toxin phage. Here, we show that in contrast, integration of TLCϕ, a toxin-linked cryptic satellite phage that is almost always found integrated at the chrI dif site before CTXϕ, depends on the formation of a HJ by XerD catalysis, which is then resolved by XerC catalysis. The reaction nevertheless escapes the normal cellular control exerted by FtsK on XerD. In addition, we show that the same reaction promotes the excision of TLCϕ, along with any CTXϕ copy present between dif and its left attachment site, providing a plausible mechanism for how chrI CTXϕ copies can be eliminated, as occurred in the second wave of the current cholera pandemic.The causative agent of the epidemic severe diarrheal disease cholera is the Vibrio cholerae bacterium. A major determinant of its pathogenicity, the cholera enterotoxin, is encoded in the genome of the filamentous cholera toxin phage, CTXϕ (1). Like many other V. cholerae filamentous phages, CTXϕ uses a host chromosomally encoded, site-specific recombination (Xer) machinery for lysogenic conversion (2–4). The Xer machinery normally serves to resolve chromosome dimers, which result from homologous recombination events between the two chromatids of circular chromosomes during or after replication. In V. cholerae, as in most bacteria, the Xer machinery consists of two tyrosine recombinases, XerC and XerD. They act at a unique specific chromosomal site, dif, on each of the two circular chromosomes, chrI and chrII, of the bacterium (5). Integrative mobile elements exploiting Xer (IMEXs) carry a dif-like site on their circular genome, attP (3, 4) (Fig. 1A). XerC and XerD promote their integration by catalyzing a recombination event between this site and a cognate chromosomal dif site (3, 4) (Fig. 1A). Based on the structure of their attP site, IMEXs can be grouped into at least three families (3, 4) (Fig. 1B). In all cases, however, a new functional dif site is restored after integration, which permits multiple successive integration events (Fig. 1A). Indeed, most clinical and environmental V. cholerae isolates harbor large IMEX arrays (6, 7).Open in a separate windowFig. 1.Systems that use Xer. (A) Scheme depicting the sequential integration of IMEXs. Triangles represent attP and dif sites, pointing from the XerD binding site to the XerC binding site. Chromosomal DNA (black), TLCϕ DNA (blue), and CTXϕ DNA (magenta) are indicated. Dotted triangles represent nonfunctional CTXϕ sites. (B) Sequence alignment of dif1, attP^CTX, attP^VGJ, attP^TLC, difA, and dif2. Bases differing from dif1 are indicated in color. Bases that do not fit the XerD binding site consensus are indicated in lowercase. XerC (●) and XerD (○) cleavage points are indicated. (C) Xer recombination pathways. XerC (light gray circles), XerD (dark gray circles), dif sites (red and black lines), and attP^CTX and attP^VGJ (magenta and green lines) are indicated. XerC and XerD catalysis-suitable conformations are depicted as horizontal and vertical synapses, respectively. Cleavage points are indicated as in B.IMEX array formation participates in the continuous and rapid dissemination of new cholera toxin variants in at least three ways. First, CTXϕ integration is intrinsically irreversible because the active form of its attP site consists of the stem of a hairpin of its ssDNA genome, which is masked in the host dsDNA genome (8, 9) (Fig. 1 A and B). However, free CTXϕ genome copies can be produced by a process analogous to rolling circle replication after the integration of a second IMEX harboring the same integration/replication machinery, such as the RS1 satellite phage, which permits the production of new CTXϕ viral particles (10). Second, the V. cholerae Gillermo Javier filamentous phage (VGJϕ) belongs to a second category of IMEXs whose attP site permits cycles of integration and excision by Xer recombination (11). VGJϕ excision allows for the formation of hybrid molecules harboring the concatenated genomes of CTXϕ and VGJϕ, provided that VGJϕ integrated before CTXϕ (11). The hybrid molecules can be packaged into VGJϕ particles. VGJϕ particles have a different receptor than CTXϕ, which permits transduction of the cholera toxin genes to cells that do not express the receptor of CTXϕ (11–13). Finally, integration of the toxin-linked cryptic phage (TLCϕ), a satellite phage that defines a third category of IMEXs, seems to be a prerequisite to the toxigenic conversion of many V. cholerae strains (14, 15). IMEXs from this family are found integrated in the genome of many bacteria outside of the Vibrios, including human, animal, and plant pathogens, which sparked considerable interest in the understanding of how they exploit the Xer machinery at the molecular level (3, 4).Xer recombination sites consist of 11-bp XerC and XerD binding arms, separated by an overlap region at the border of which recombination occurs (Fig. 1B). XerC and XerD each promote the exchange of a specific pair of strands (Fig. 1B). Recombination between dif sites is under the control of a cell division protein, FtsK, which restricts it temporally to the time of constriction and spatially to a specific zone within the terminus region of chromosomes (16–19). FtsK triggers the formation of a Holliday junction (HJ) by XerD catalysis, which is converted into product by XerC catalysis after isomerization (20, 21) (Fig. 1C). The intermediate HJ is stable enough to be converted into product by replication when XerC catalysis is impeded (5, 17) (Fig. 1C). The integration of IMEXs of the CTXϕ and VGJϕ families escapes FtsK control. The lack of homology in the overlap regions of their attP sites and the dif sites they target prevents any potential XerD-mediated strand exchange (Fig. 1B). CTXϕ and VGJϕ rely on the exchange of a single pair of strands by XerC catalysis for integration, with the resulting HJ being converted into product by replication (8, 9, 11) (Fig. 1C). In the case of CTXϕ, integration is facilitated by an additional host factor, EndoIII, which impedes futile cycles of XerC catalysis once the pseudo-HJ is formed (22) (Fig. 1C). In contrast, the overlap region of TLCϕ attP, attP^TLC, is fully homologous to the overlaps of dif1 and difA, the two sites in which it was found to be integrated (Fig. 1B). Four integration pathways could thus be considered, depending on whether recombination is initiated by XerC or XerD catalysis, and whether it ends with a second pair of strand exchange or not. In addition, attP^TLC lacks a consensus XerD binding site, which could affect the whole recombination process (Fig. 1B).Here, we show that attP^TLC is a poor XerD binding substrate. Nevertheless, we show that TLCϕ integration is initiated by XerD catalysis and that the resulting HJ is converted into product by XerC catalysis. We further show that TLCϕ integration is independent of FtsK. Finally, we demonstrate that the same reaction can lead to the excision of TLCϕ–CTXϕ arrays, providing a plausible mechanism for how all of the CTXϕ copies integrated on V. cholerae chrI can be eliminated in a single step, as occurred in ancestors of strains from the second wave of the current cholera pandemic (23–25).     

Coevolution can reverse predator–prey cycles

A hallmark of Lotka–Volterra models, and other ecological models of predator–prey interactions, is that in predator–prey cycles, peaks in prey abundance precede peaks in predator abundance. Such models typically assume that species life history traits are fixed over ecologically relevant time scales. However, the coevolution of predator and prey traits has been shown to alter the community dynamics of natural systems, leading to novel dynamics including antiphase and cryptic cycles. Here, using an eco-coevolutionary model, we show that predator–prey coevolution can also drive population cycles where the opposite of canonical Lotka–Volterra oscillations occurs: predator peaks precede prey peaks. These reversed cycles arise when selection favors extreme phenotypes, predator offense is costly, and prey defense is effective against low-offense predators. We present multiple datasets from phage–cholera, mink–muskrat, and gyrfalcon–rock ptarmigan systems that exhibit reversed-peak ordering. Our results suggest that such cycles are a potential signature of predator–prey coevolution and reveal unique ways in which predator–prey coevolution can shape, and possibly reverse, community dynamics.Population cycles, e.g., predator–prey cycles, and their ecological drivers have been of interest for the last 90 y (1–4). Classical models of predator–prey systems, developed first by Lotka (5) and Volterra (6), share a common prediction: Prey oscillations precede predator oscillations by up to a quarter of the cycle period (7). When plotted in the predator–prey phase plane, these cycles have a counterclockwise orientation (4). These cycles are driven by density-dependent interactions between the populations. When predators are scarce, prey increase in abundance. As their food source increases, predators increase in abundance. When the predators reach sufficiently high densities, the prey population is driven down to low numbers. With a scarcity of food, the predator population crashes and the cycle repeats.While many cycles, like the classic lynx–hare cycles (Fig. 1A) (3), exhibit the above characteristics, predator–prey cycles with different characteristics have also been observed. For example, antiphase cycles where predator oscillations lag behind prey oscillations by half of the cycle period (Fig. 1B) (8) and cryptic cycles where the predator population oscillates while the prey population remains effectively constant (Fig. 1C) (9) have been observed in experimental systems. This diversity of cycle types motivates the question, “Why do cycle characteristics differ across systems?”Open in a separate windowFig. 1.Examples of different kinds of predator–prey cycles. (A) Counterclockwise lynx–hare cycles (3). (B) Antiphase rotifer–algal cycles (8). (C) Cryptic phage-bacteria cycles (9). In all time series, red and blue correspond to predator and prey, respectively. See SI Text, section C for data sources.In Lotka–Volterra and other ecological models, predator and prey life history traits are assumed to be fixed. However, empirical studies across taxa have shown that prey (9–16) and predators (17–20) can evolve over ecological time scales. That is, changes in allele frequencies (and associated phenotypes) can occur at the same rate as changes in population densities or spatial distributions and alter the ecological processes driving the changes in population densities or distributions; this phenomenon has been termed “eco-evolutionary dynamics” (21, 22). Furthermore, predator–prey coevolution is important for driving community composition and dynamics (16, 19, 20, 23–26). This body of work suggests that the interaction between ecological and evolution processes has the potential to alter the ecological dynamics of communities.Experimental (8, 9, 13, 14) and theoretical studies (13, 27, 28) have shown that prey or predator evolution alone can alter the characteristics of predator–prey cycles and drive antiphase (Fig. 1B) and cryptic (Fig. 1C) cycles. Additional theoretical work has shown that predator–prey coevolution can also drive antiphase and cryptic cycles (29). Thus, evolution in one or both species is one mechanism through which antiphase or cryptic predator–prey cycles can arise. However, it is unclear if coevolution can drive additional kinds of cycles with characteristics different from those in Fig. 1.The main contribution of this study is to show that predator–prey coevolution can drive unique cycles where peaks in predator abundance precede peaks in prey abundance, the opposite of what is predicted by classical ecological models. We refer to these reversed cycles as “clockwise cycles.” The theoretical and empirical finding of clockwise cycles represents an example of how evolution over ecological time scales can alter community-level dynamics.     

Dietary options and behavior suggested by plant biomarker evidence in an early human habitat

The availability of plants and freshwater shapes the diets and social behavior of chimpanzees, our closest living relative. However, limited evidence about the spatial relationships shared between ancestral human (hominin) remains, edible resources, refuge, and freshwater leaves the influence of local resources on our species’ evolution open to debate. Exceptionally well-preserved organic geochemical fossils—biomarkers—preserved in a soil horizon resolve different plant communities at meter scales across a contiguous 25,000 m² archaeological land surface at Olduvai Gorge from about 2 Ma. Biomarkers reveal hominins had access to aquatic plants and protective woods in a patchwork landscape, which included a spring-fed wetland near a woodland that both were surrounded by open grassland. Numerous cut-marked animal bones are located within the wooded area, and within meters of wetland vegetation delineated by biomarkers for ferns and sedges. Taken together, plant biomarkers, clustered bone debris, and hominin remains define a clear spatial pattern that places animal butchery amid the refuge of an isolated forest patch and near freshwater with diverse edible resources.Spatial patterns in archaeological remains provide a glimpse into the lives of our ancestors (1–5). Although many early hominin environments are interpreted as grassy or open woodlands (6–8), fossil bones and plant remains are rarely preserved together in the same settings. As a result, associated landscape reconstructions commonly lack coexisting fossil evidence for hominins and local-scale habitat (microhabitat) that defined the distribution of plant foods, refuge, and water (7). This problem is exacerbated by the discontinuous nature and low time resolution often available across ancient soil (paleosol) horizons, including hominin archaeological localities. One notable exception is well-time-correlated 1.8-million-y-old paleosol horizons exposed at Olduvai Gorge. Associated horizons contain exceptionally preserved plant biomarkers along with many artifacts and fossilized bones. Plant biomarkers, which previously revealed temporal patterns in vegetation and water (8), are well preserved in the paleosol horizon and document plant-type spatial distributions that provide an ecosystem context (9, 10) for resources that likely affected the diets and behavior of hominin inhabitants.Plant biomarkers are delivered by litter to soils and can distinguish plant functional type differences in standing biomass over scales of 1–1,000 m² (11). Trees, grasses, and other terrestrial plants produce leaf waxes that include long-chain n-alkanes such as hentriacontane (nC₃₁), whereas aquatic plants and phytoplankton produce midchain homologs (e.g., nC₂₃) (12, 13). The ratio of shorter- versus long-chain n-alkane abundances distinguish relative organic matter inputs from aquatic versus terrestrial plants to sediments (13):P_aq = (nC₂₃ + nC₂₅)/(nC₂₃ + nC₂₅ + nC₂₉ + nC₃₁).Sedges and ferns are prolific in many tropical ecosystems (14). These plants both have variable and therefore nondiagnostic n-alkane profiles. However, sedges produce distinctive phenolic compounds [e.g., 5-n-tricosylresorcinol (ⁿR₂₃)] and ferns produce distinctive midchain diols [e.g., 1,13-dotriacontanediol (C₃₂-diol)] (SI Discussion).Lignin monomers provide evidence for woody and nonwoody plants. This refractory biopolymer occurs in both leaves and wood, serves as a structural tissue, and accounts for up to half of the total organic carbon in modern vegetation (11). Lignin is composed of three phenolic monomer types that show distinctive distributions in woody and herbaceous plant tissues. Woody tissues from dicotyledonous trees and shrubs contain syringyl (S) and vanillyl (V) phenols (12), whereas cinnamyl (C) phenols are exclusively found in herbaceous tissues (12). The relative abundance of C versus V phenols (C/V) is widely used to distinguish between woody and herbaceous inputs to sedimentary and soil organic matter (15).Plant biomarker ¹³C/¹²C ratios (expressed as δ¹³C values) are sensitive indicators of community composition, ecosystem structure, and climate conditions (8). Most woody plants and forbs in eastern Africa use C₃ photosynthesis (6), whereas arid-adapted grasses use C₄ photosynthesis (8, 14). These two pathways discriminate differently against ¹³C during photosynthesis, resulting in characteristic δ¹³C values for leaf waxes derived from C₃ (about –36.0‰) and C₄ (–21.0‰) plants (16). Carbon isotopic abundances of phenolic monomers of lignin amplify the C₃–C₄ difference and range between ca. –34.0‰ (C₃) and –14.0‰ (C₄) in tropical ecosystems (15). Terrestrial C₃ plant δ¹³C values decrease with increased exposure to water, respired CO₂, and shade (8), with lowest values observed in moist regions with dense canopy (17). Although concentration and δ¹³C values of atmospheric CO₂ can affect C₃ plant δ¹³C values (17), this influence is not relevant to our work here, which focuses on a single time window (SI Discussion). The large differences in leaf-wax δ¹³C values between closed C₃ forest to open C₄ grassland are consistent with soil organic carbon isotope gradients across canopy-shaded ground surfaces (6) and serve as a quantitative proxy for woody cover (f_woody) in savannas (8).As is observed for nonhuman primates, hominin dietary choices were likely shaped by ecosystem characteristics over habitat scales of 1–1,000 m² (3–5). To evaluate plant distributions at this small spatial scale (9), we excavated 71 paleosol samples from close-correlated trenches across a ∼25,000-m² area that included FLK Zinjanthropus Level 22 (FLK Zinj) at Olduvai Gorge (Fig. 1). Recent excavations (18–21) at multiple trenches at four sites (FLK^NN, FLK^N, FLK, and FLK^S, Fig. 1D) exposed a traceable thin (5–50 cm), waxy green to olive-brown clay horizon developed by pedogenic alterations of playa lake margin alluvium (22). Weak stratification and irregular redox stains suggest initial soil development occurred during playa lake regression (18, 22), around 1.848 Ma (ref. 23 and SI Discussion). To date, craniodental remains from at least three hominin individuals (18–20), including preadolescent early Homo and Paranthropus boisei, were recovered from FLK Zinj. Fossils and artifacts embedded in the paleosol horizon often protrude into an overlying airfall tuff (18, 19), which suggests fossil remains were catastrophically buried in situ under volcanic ash. Rapid burial likely fostered the exceptional preservation of both macrofossils (10) and plant biomarkers across the FLK Zinj land surface.Open in a separate windowFig. 1.Location and map of FLK Zinj paleosol excavations. (A and B) Location of FLK Zinj as referenced to reconstructed depositional environments at Olduvai Gorge during the early Pleistocene (18, 22) and the modern gorge walls. The perennial lake contained shallow saline–alkaline waters that frequently flooded the surrounding playa margin (i.e., floodplain) flats. (C) Outline of FLK Zinj paleosol excavation sites used for our spatial biomarker reconstructions. (D) Concentric (5 m) gridded distribution map of FLK Zinj paleosol excavations relative to previous archaeological trenches (18–21). Major aggregate complexes (FLK^NN, FLK^N, FLK, and FLK^S) are color-coded to show excavation-site associations.Plant biomarker signatures reveal distinct types of vegetation juxtaposed across the FLK Zinj land surface (Figs. 2–4 and Fig. S1). In the northwest, FLK^NN trenches show high nC₂₃ δ¹³C values (Fig. 2B) as well as high C/V and P_aq values (Figs. 3 and ​and4A).4A). They indicate floating or submerged aquatic plants (macrophytes) in standing freshwater (13), a finding that is consistent with nearby low-temperature freshwater carbonates (tufa), interpreted to be deposited from spring waters (22). Adjacent FLK^N trenches have lower P_aq values (Fig. 4A) with occurrences of fern-derived C₃₂-diol and sedge-derived ⁿR₂₃ (Fig. 2 C and D). These biomarker distributions indicate an abrupt (around 10 m) transition from aquatic to wetland vegetation. Less than 100 m away (Fig. 1C), low nC₃₁ δ¹³C values (Fig. 2A) and low C/V and very low P_aq values (Figs. 3 and ​and4A)4A) collectively indicate dense woody cover (Fig. 4B). In the farthest southeastern (FLK^S) trenches, high C/V values and high δ¹³C values for C lignin phenols (Fig. 3) indicate open C₄ grassland.Open in a separate windowFig. 2.Spatial distributions and δ¹³C values for plant biomarkers across FLK Zinj. Measured and modeled δ¹³C values (large and smaller circles, respectively) are shown for (A) nC₃₁ from terrestrial plants, (B) nC₂₃ from (semi)aquatic plants, (C) C₃₂-diol from ferns, and (D) ⁿR₂₃ from sedges (see refs. 12 and 13 and SI Discussion). Modeled values [inverse distance-weighted (9)] account for spatial autocorrelation (15-m radius) in standing biomass (35) over scales of soil organic matter accumulation (11). Black dots represent paleosols with insufficient plant biomarker concentrations for isotopic analysis.Open in a separate windowFig. 3.Molecular and isotopic signatures for lignin phenols across FLK Zinj. Bivariate plots are shown for diagnostic lignin compositional parameters (see refs. 12 and 15 and Fig. 1C). Symbols are colored according to respective δ¹³C values for the C lignin phenol, p-coumaric acid. FLK symbols are uncolored due to insufficient p-coumaric acid concentrations for isotopic analysis. Representative lignin compositional parameters (12, 15) are shown for monocotyledonous herbaceous tissues (G), dicotyledonous herbaceous tissues (H), cryptogams (N), and dicotyledonous woody tissues (W).Open in a separate windowFig. 4.Spatial relationships shared between local plant resources and hominin remains. Measured and modeled values (large and smaller circles, respectively) are shown for (A) P_aq (13) and (B) f_woody (8). Modeled values [inverse distance-weighted (9)] account for spatial autocorrelation (15-m radius) in standing biomass (35) over scales of soil organic matter accumulation (11). (C) Kernel density map of cut-marked bones (18–21) across the FLK Zinj land surface (Fig. S4). High estimator values indicate hotspots of hominin butchery (Fig. S5). A shaded rectangle captures the area (ca. 0.68 probability mass) with highest cut-marked bone densities and is shown in A and B for reference.Open in a separate windowFig. S1.Total ion chromatograms for saturated hydrocarbons in representative paleosols at (A) FLK^NN, (B) FLK^N, (C) FLK, and (D) FLK^S. C₂₃, tricosane; C₂₅, pentacosane; C₂₉ nonacosane; C₃₁, hentriacontane.Biomarkers define a heterogeneous landscape at Olduvai and suggest an influence of local resources on hominin diets and behavior. It is recognized (2, 24–26) that early Homo species and P. boisei had similar physiological characteristics. These similarities in physical attributes suggest behavioral differences were what allowed for overlapping ranges and local coexistence (sympatry) of both hominins. For instance, differences in seasonal subsistence strategies or different behavior during periods of drought and limited food could have reduced local hominin competition and fostered diversification via niche specialization (27–29).Physical and isotopic properties of fossil teeth indicate P. boisei was more water-dependent [low enamel δ¹⁸O values (24)] and consumed larger quantities of abrasive, ¹³C-enriched foodstuffs [flat-worn surfaces (25) and high enamel δ¹³C values (26)] than coexisting early Homo species. Although ¹³C-enriched enamel is commonly attributed to consumption of C₄ grasses or meat from grazers (14), this was not likely, because P. boisei craniodental features are inconsistent with contemporary gramnivores (24, 25) or extensive uncooked flesh mastication (26). Numerous scholars have proposed the nutritious underground storage organs (USOs) of C₄ sedges were a staple of hominin diets (14, 24, 26, 27). Consistent with this suggestion, occurrences of ⁿR₂₃ attest to the presence of sedges at FLK^NN and FLK^N (Fig. 2D). However, the low δ¹³C values measured for ⁿR₂₃ at these same sites (Fig. 2D and Fig. S2) indicate C₃ photosynthesis (12, 16), a trait common in modern sedges that grow in alkaline wetlands and lakes (30) (Fig. S3). Thus, biomarker signatures support the presence of C₃ sedges in the wetland area of FLK Zinj.Open in a separate windowFig. S2.Total ion chromatogram [TIC (A)] and selected ion chromatograms for derivatized 5-n-alkylresorcinols [m/z 268 (●)] and midchain diols [m/z 369 (○)] from a representative paleosol at FLK^N. Also shown are δ¹³C values for homologous (B) 5-n-alkylresorcinols and (C) midchain diols. C₃₂-diol, dotriacontanediol; ⁿR₂₃, tricosylresorcinol.Open in a separate windowFig. S3.Summary phyogenetic consensus tree of Cyperaceae (sedges) based on nucleotide (rcbL and ETS1f) sequence data (50–54, 95, 96). Important taxonomic distinctions discussed in SI Discussion, Fern Alkyldiols are shown explicitly. Triangle-enclosed digits represent the number of additional branches at different levels of taxonomic classification. CEFA, Cypereae Eleocharideae Fuireneae Abildgaardieae; CSD, Cariceae Scirpeae Dulichieae.Alternative foodstuffs with abrasive, ¹³C-enriched biomass include seedless vascular plants (cryptogams), such as ferns and lycophytes [e.g., quillworts (27, 30)]. Ferns are widely distributed throughout eastern Africa in moist and shaded microhabitats (31) and are often found near dependable sources of drinking water (32). Today, ferns serve as a dietary resource for humans and nonhuman primates alike (27), and fiddlehead consumption is consistent with the inferred digestive physiology [salivary proteins (33)] and the microwear on molars (34) of P. boisei in eastern Africa (25, 26). Ferns were present at FLK^N, based on measurements of C₃₂-diol (Fig. 2D). Further, the high δ¹³C values measured for these compounds are consistent with significant fern consumption by P. boisei at Olduvai Gorge.Ferns and grasses were not the only plant foods present during the time window documented by FLK Zinj. Further, the exclusive reliance on a couple of dietary resources was improbable for P. boisei, because its fossils occur in diverse localities (24–26). Aquatic plants are an additional candidate substrate, as evidenced by high P_aq values at FLK^NN and FLK^N (Fig. 4A). Floating and submerged plants proliferate in wetlands throughout eastern Africa today (13, 14), and many produce nutritious leaves and rootstock all year long (27, 28). Although C₄ photosynthesis is rare among modern macrophytes (30), they can assimilate bicarbonate under alkaline conditions, which results in C₄-like isotope signatures in their biomass (30). Their leaf waxes, such as nC₂₃ (13), are both present and carry ¹³C-enriched signatures at FLK^NN and FLK^N (Fig. 2B). It is also likely that aquatic macrophytes sustained invertebrates and fish with comparably ¹³C-enriched biomass, as they do in modern systems (14), and we suggest aquatic animal foods could have been important in P. boisei diets (27, 28).Biomarkers across the FLK Zinj soil horizon resolve clear patterns in the distribution of plants and water and suggest critical resources that shaped hominin existence at Olduvai Gorge. The behavioral implications of local conditions require understanding of regional climate and biogeography (3–5, 7), because hominin species likely had home ranges much larger than the extent of excavated sites at FLK Zinj. Lake sediments at Olduvai Gorge include numerous stacked tuffs with precise radiometric age constraints (23). These tephrostratigraphic correlations (21) tie the FLK Zinj landscape horizon to published records of plant biomarkers in lake sediments that record climate cycles and catchment-scale variations in ecology. Correlative lake sediment data indicate the wet and wooded microhabitats of FLK Zinj sat within a catchment dominated by arid C₄ grassland (8). Under similarly arid conditions today, only a small fraction of landscape area (ca. 0.05) occurs within 5 km of either forest or standing freshwater (35). Given a paucity of shaded refuge and potable water in the catchment, the concentration of hominin butchery debris (18–21) exclusively within the forest microhabitat and adjacent to a freshwater wetland (Fig. 4) is notable. We suggest the spatial patterns defined by both macro- and molecular fossils reflect hominins engaged in social transport of resources (1–5), such as bringing animal carcasses and freshwater-sourced foods from surrounding grassy or wetland habitats to a wooded patch that provided both physical protection and access to water.     

Studies on enmetazobactam clarify mechanisms of widely used β-lactamase inhibitors

β-Lactams are the most important class of antibacterials, but their use is increasingly compromised by resistance, most importantly via serine β-lactamase (SBL)-catalyzed hydrolysis. The scope of β-lactam antibacterial activity can be substantially extended by coadministration with a penicillin-derived SBL inhibitor (SBLi), i.e., the penam sulfones tazobactam and sulbactam, which are mechanism-based inhibitors working by acylation of the nucleophilic serine. The new SBLi enmetazobactam, an N-methylated tazobactam derivative, has recently completed clinical trials. Biophysical studies on the mechanism of SBL inhibition by enmetazobactam reveal that it inhibits representatives of all SBL classes without undergoing substantial scaffold fragmentation, a finding that contrasts with previous reports on SBL inhibition by tazobactam and sulbactam. We therefore reinvestigated the mechanisms of tazobactam and sulbactam using mass spectrometry under denaturing and nondenaturing conditions, X-ray crystallography, and NMR spectroscopy. The results imply that the reported extensive fragmentation of penam sulfone–derived acyl–enzyme complexes does not substantially contribute to SBL inhibition. In addition to observation of previously identified inhibitor-induced SBL modifications, the results reveal that prolonged reaction of penam sulfones with SBLs can induce dehydration of the nucleophilic serine to give a dehydroalanine residue that undergoes reaction to give a previously unobserved lysinoalanine cross-link. The results clarify the mechanisms of action of widely clinically used SBLi, reveal limitations on the interpretation of mass spectrometry studies concerning mechanisms of SBLi, and will inform the development of new SBLi working by reaction to form hydrolytically stable acyl–enzyme complexes.

β-Lactamases are a major mechanism of resistance to the clinically vital β-lactam antibiotics, with >2,000 different β-lactamases reported (1). β-Lactamases are grouped into classes A, C, and D, which employ a nucleophilic serine in catalysis (serine β-lactamases, SBLs), and class B, which employ metal ions in catalysis (2). Presently, SBLs are the most important β-lactamases from a clinical perspective. SBL inhibitors (SBLi) have been developed for use in combination with a β-lactam antibiotic, with tazobactam (3), sulbactam (4), and clavulanic acid (5) being the most widely used SBLi. These SBLi all contain a β-lactam ring which reacts with SBLs to produce an acyl–enzyme complex (AEC) intermediate, as is also the case for efficient SBL substrates (Fig. 1A). With efficient substrates the β-lactam–derived AEC is readily hydrolyzed. With SBLi the reaction bifurcates at the AEC stage; in addition to hydrolysis, reaction of the AEC via opening of the β-lactam fused five-membered ring occurs to give one or more relatively hydrolytically stable species (Figs. 1B and ​and2).2). The nature of these species is central to SBLi inhibition and has been studied by crystallography (6–11) and ultraviolet-visible (UV/Vis) (10, 12) and Raman (6, 7, 9, 12–15) spectroscopy, as well as different types of mass spectrometry (MS) (10, 16–22).Open in a separate windowFig. 1.Sulfone derivatives of penicillins are potent clinically used mechanism-based inhibitors of SBLs. (A) Outline mechanism for penicillin hydrolysis as catalyzed by SBLs; reaction proceeds via an AEC, which is efficiently hydrolyzed. (B) Sulfone derivatives of penicillins are SBLi that react to give one or more hydrolytically stable complex(es), the nature of which was the focus of our work.Open in a separate windowFig. 2.Pathways for reactions of penam sulfones with SBLs. Following initial acyl–enzyme 2 formation the main transient inactivation pathway occurs via thiazolidine ring opening to give species 3-5 which are relatively stable to hydrolysis. Fragmentation of 3-5 can occur in rare cases and is promoted by acid to give 6-8 or heat to give 11. In rare cases fragmentation of 2-5 can result in irreversible inactivation of the SBL to give 9 and 10. Efficient hydrolysis of the β-lactam occurs to give a β-amino acid product 12, which in solution fragments to give 13-16. Our results imply biologically relevant inhibition involves 3-5, or equivalent mass species.The structures of tazobactam and sulbactam are closely related to those of the penicillins; they differ by lack of a C-6 side chain, functionalization of the pro-S methyl group (in case of tazobactam), and by oxidation of the thiazolidine to a sulfone. These differences result in a loss of useful antibacterial activity but a gain of potent SBL inhibition. Although the presence of sulfur in drugs is common [e.g., sulfonamide antibiotics (23)] and there is growing interest in covalently acting drugs (24, 25), sulfones are rare in drugs and, as far as we are aware, sulbactam and tazobactam are the only clinically approved sulfone-containing drugs working by covalent reaction with their targets (26–28).Since the clinical introduction of the pioneering SBLi, β-lactamases have evolved and SBLi use is increasingly compromised by extended spectrum β-lactamases (ESBLs) and inhibitor-resistant SBLs (29). Efforts have been made to develop new SBLi, including those with and without a β-lactam. The latter include diazabicyclooctanes (30) and cyclic boronates (31, 32). However, β-lactam–containing SBLi remain of most clinical importance. Among SBLi in clinical development, enmetazobactam (formerly AAI-101; Fig. 1) is of particular interest because it is a “simple” N-methylated derivative of the triazole ring of tazobactam (33). In combination with cefepime, enmetazobactam is reported to manifest substantially better antimicrobial properties against class A ESBL-producing strains than the commonly used piperacillin/tazobactam combination (20, 33, 34).We report studies on the mechanism of SBL inhibition by enmetazobactam using denaturing and nondenaturing (native) MS methods, NMR spectroscopy, and crystallography. The results led us to reevaluate the mechanisms of SBL inhibition by the clinically important sulfone-containing SBLi, i.e., tazobactam and sulbactam, and reveal limitations on the interpretation of MS studies concerning SBL inhibition.     

Insect nicotinic receptor interactions in vivo with neonicotinoid,organophosphorus, and methylcarbamate insecticides and a synergist

The nicotinic acetylcholine (ACh) receptor (nAChR) is the principal insecticide target. Nearly half of the insecticides by number and world market value are neonicotinoids acting as nAChR agonists or organophosphorus (OP) and methylcarbamate (MC) acetylcholinesterase (AChE) inhibitors. There was no previous evidence for in vivo interactions of the nAChR agonists and AChE inhibitors. The nitromethyleneimidazole (NMI) analog of imidacloprid, a highly potent neonicotinoid, was used here as a radioligand, uniquely allowing for direct measurements of house fly (Musca domestica) head nAChR in vivo interactions with various nicotinic agents. Nine neonicotinoids inhibited house fly brain nAChR [³H]NMI binding in vivo, corresponding to their in vitro potency and the poisoning signs or toxicity they produced in intrathoracically treated house flies. Interestingly, nine topically applied OP or MC insecticides or analogs also gave similar results relative to in vivo nAChR binding inhibition and toxicity, but now also correlating with in vivo brain AChE inhibition, indicating that ACh is the ultimate OP- or MC-induced nAChR active agent. These findings on [³H]NMI binding in house fly brain membranes validate the nAChR in vivo target for the neonicotinoids, OPs and MCs. As an exception, the remarkably potent OP neonicotinoid synergist, O-propyl O-(2-propynyl) phenylphosphonate, inhibited nAChR in vivo without the corresponding AChE inhibition, possibly via a reactive ketene metabolite reacting with a critical nucleophile in the cytochrome P450 active site and the nAChR NMI binding site.The nicotinic nervous system has two principal sites of insecticide action, the nicotinic receptor (nAChR) activated by acetylcholine (ACh) and neonicotinoid agonists (1–6), and acetylcholinesterase (AChE) inhibited by organophosphorus (OP) and methylcarbamate (MC) compounds to generate and maintain localized toxic ACh levels (Fig. 1) (7). The nAChR and AChE targets have been identified in insects by multiple techniques but not by direct assays of the ACh binding site in the brain of poisoned insects. Here we use the outstanding insecticidal potency of the nitromethyleneimidazole (NMI) analog of imidacloprid (IMI) (8) as a radioligand (9), designated [³H]NMI, to directly measure the house fly (Musca domestica) nAChR not only in vitro but also in vivo, allowing us to validate by a previously undescribed method the neonicotinoid direct and OP/MC indirect nAChR targets (Fig. 2). This approach also helped solve the intriguing mechanism by which an O-(2-propynyl) phosphorus compound strongly synergizes neonicotinoid insecticidal activity (10) by dual inhibition of cytochrome P450 (CYP) (11–13) and the nAChR agonist site (described herein). Insecticide disruption at the insect nAChR can now be readily studied in vitro and in vivo with a single radioligand allowing better understanding of the action of several principal insecticide chemotypes (Fig. 3).Open in a separate windowFig. 1.The insect nicotinic receptor is the direct or indirect target for neonicotinoids, organophosphorus compounds and methylcarbamates, which make up about 45% of the insecticides by number and world market value (2, 7).Open in a separate windowFig. 2.In this study, Musca nicotinic receptor in vivo interactions with major insecticide chemotypes are revealed by a [³H]NMI radioligand reporter assay. *Position of tritium label.Open in a separate windowFig. 3.Two neonicotinoid nicotinic agonists and two anticholinesterase insecticides.     

Taxodione and arenarone inhibit farnesyl diphosphate synthase by binding to the isopentenyl diphosphate site

We used in silico methods to screen a library of 1,013 compounds for possible binding to the allosteric site in farnesyl diphosphate synthase (FPPS). Two of the 50 predicted hits had activity against either human FPPS (HsFPPS) or Trypanosoma brucei FPPS (TbFPPS), the most active being the quinone methide celastrol (IC₅₀ versus TbFPPS ∼20 µM). Two rounds of similarity searching and activity testing then resulted in three leads that were active against HsFPPS with IC₅₀ values in the range of ∼1–3 µM (as compared with ∼0.5 µM for the bisphosphonate inhibitor, zoledronate). The three leads were the quinone methides taxodone and taxodione and the quinone arenarone, compounds with known antibacterial and/or antitumor activity. We then obtained X-ray crystal structures of HsFPPS with taxodione+zoledronate, arenarone+zoledronate, and taxodione alone. In the zoledronate-containing structures, taxodione and arenarone bound solely to the homoallylic (isopentenyl diphosphate, IPP) site, not to the allosteric site, whereas zoledronate bound via Mg²⁺ to the same site as seen in other bisphosphonate-containing structures. In the taxodione-alone structure, one taxodione bound to the same site as seen in the taxodione+zoledronate structure, but the second located to a more surface-exposed site. In differential scanning calorimetry experiments, taxodione and arenarone broadened the native-to-unfolded thermal transition (T_m), quite different to the large increases in ΔT_m seen with biphosphonate inhibitors. The results identify new classes of FPPS inhibitors, diterpenoids and sesquiterpenoids, that bind to the IPP site and may be of interest as anticancer and antiinfective drug leads.Farnesyl diphosphate synthase (FPPS) catalyzes the condensation of isopentenyl diphosphate (IPP; compound 1 in Fig. 1) with dimethylallyl diphosphate (DMAPP; compound 2 in Fig. 1) to form the C₁₀ isoprenoid geranyl diphosphate (GPP; compound 3 in Fig. 1), which then condenses with a second IPP to form the C₁₅ isoprenoid, farnesyl diphosphate (FPP; compound 4 in Fig. 1). FPP then is used in a wide range of reactions including the formation of geranylgeranyl diphosphate (GGPP) (1), squalene (involved in cholesterol and ergosterol biosynthesis), dehydrosqualene (used in formation of the Staphylococcus aureus virulence factor staphyloxanthin) (2), undecaprenyl diphosphate (used in bacterial cell wall biosynthesis), and quinone and in heme a/o biosynthesis. FPP and GGPP also are used in protein (e.g., Ras, Rho, Rac) prenylation, and FPPS is an important target for the bisphosphonate class of drugs (used to treat bone resorption diseases) such as zoledronate (compound 5 in Fig. 1) (3). Bisphosphonates targeting FPPS have activity as antiparasitics (4), act as immunomodulators (activating γδ T cells containing the Vγ2Vδ2 T-cell receptor) (5), and switch macrophages from an M2 (tumor-promoting) to an M1 (tumor-killing) phenotype (6). They also kill tumor cells (7) and inhibit angiogenesis (8). However, the bisphosphonates in clinical use (zoledronate, alendronate, risedronate, ibandronate, etidronate, and clodronate) are very hydrophilic and bind avidly to bone mineral (9). Therefore, there is interest in developing less hydrophilic species (10) that might have better activity against tumors in soft tissues and better antibacterial (11) and antiparasitic activity.Open in a separate windowFig. 1.Chemical structures of FPPS substrates, products, and inhibitors.The structure of FPPS (from chickens) was first reported by Tarshis et al. (12) and revealed a highly α-helical fold. The structures of bacterial and Homo sapiens FPPS (HsFPPS) are very similar; HsFPPS structure (13, 14) is shown in Fig. 2A. There are two substrate-binding sites, called here “S1” and “S2.” S1 is the allylic (DMAPP, GPP) binding site to which bisphosphonates such as zoledronate bind via a [Mg²⁺]₃ cluster (15) (Fig. 2B). S2 is the homoallylic site to which IPP binds, Fig. 2B. Recently, Jahnke et al. (10) and Salcius et al. (16) discovered a third ligand-binding site called the “allosteric site” (hereafter the “A site”). A representative zoledronate+A-site inhibitor structure [Protein Data Bank (PDB) ID code 3N46] (Nov_980; compound 6 in Fig. 1) showing zoledronate in S1 and Nov_980 (compound 6) in the A site is shown in a stereo close-up view in Fig. 2B, superimposed on a zoledronate+IPP structure (PDB ID code 2F8Z) in S2. Whether the allosteric site serves a biological function (e.g., in feedback regulation) has not been reported. Nevertheless, highly potent inhibitors (IC₅₀ ∼80 nM) have been developed (10), and the best of these newly developed inhibitors are far more hydrophobic than are typical bisphosphonates (∼2.4–3.3 for cLogP vs. ∼−3.3 for zoledronate) and are expected to have better direct antitumor effects in soft tissues (10).Open in a separate windowFig. 2.Structures of human FPPS. (A) Structure of HsFPPS showing zoledronate (compound 5) and IPP (compound 1) bound to the S1 (allylic) and S2 (homoallylic) ligand-binding sites (PDB ID code 2F8Z). (B) Superposition of the IPP-zoledronate structure (PDB ID code 2F8Z) on the zoledronate-Nov_980 A-site inhibitor structure (PDB ID code 3N46). Zoledronate binds to the allylic site S1, IPP binds to the homoallylic site S2, and the allosteric site inhibitor binds to the A site. Active-site “DDXXD” residues are indicated, as are Mg²⁺ molecules (green and yellow spheres, respectively). The views are in stereo.In our group we also have developed more lipophilic compounds (e.g., compound 7 in Fig. 1) (17, 18) as antiparasitic (19) and anticancer drug leads (18) and, using computational methods, have discovered other novel nonbisphosphonate FPPS inhibitors (e.g., compound 8 in Fig. 1) that have micromolar activity against FPPS (20). In this study, we extended our computational work and tried to discover other FPPS inhibitors that target the A site. Such compounds would be of interest because they might potentiate the effects of zoledronate and other bisphosphonates, as reported for other FPPS inhibitors (21), and have better tissue distribution properties in general.     

Rapid seafloor changes associated with the degradation of Arctic submarine permafrost

Repeated high-resolution bathymetric surveys of the shelf edge of the Canadian Beaufort Sea during 2- to 9-y-long survey intervals reveal rapid morphological changes. New steep-sided depressions up to 28 m in depth developed, and lateral retreat along scarp faces occurred at multiple sites. These morphological changes appeared between 120-m and 150-m water depth, near the maximum limit of the submerged glacial-age permafrost, and are attributed to permafrost thawing where ascending groundwater is concentrated along the relict permafrost boundary. The groundwater is produced by the regional thawing of the permafrost base due to the shift in the geothermal gradient as a result of the interglacial transgression of the shelf. In contrast, where groundwater discharge is reduced, sediments freeze at the ambient sea bottom temperature of ∼−1.4 °C. The consequent expansion of freezing sediment creates ice-cored topographic highs or pingos, which are particularly abundant adjacent to the discharge area.

The effects of on-going terrestrial permafrost degradation (1–3) have been appraised by comparison of sequential images of Arctic landscapes that show geomorphic changes attributed primarily to thermokarst activity induced by recent atmospheric warming and ongoing natural periglacial processes (4–8). While the existence of extensive relict submarine permafrost on the continental shelves in the Arctic has been known for years (9, 10), the dynamics of submarine permafrost growth and decay and consequent modifications of seafloor morphology are largely unexplored.Throughout the Pleistocene, much of the vast continental shelf areas of the Arctic Ocean experienced marine transgressions and regressions associated with ∼125-m global sea level changes (11). Extensive terrestrial permafrost formed during sea-level low stands when the mean annual air temperatures of the exposed shelves were less than −15 °C (11, 12). Exploration wells drilled on the continental shelf in the Canadian Beaufort Sea show that relict terrestrial permafrost occurs in places to depths >600 m below seafloor (mbsf) and forms a seaward-thinning wedge beneath the outer shelf (10, 13, 14) (Fig. 1 A and B). The hydrography of the Canadian Beaufort Sea slows the degradation of the relict permafrost because a cold-water layer with temperatures usually near -1.4 °C blankets the seafloor from midshelf depths down to ∼200-m water depth (mwd) (15, 16) (Fig. 1B). As the freezing point temperature of interstitial waters is also controlled by salinity and sediment grain size, partially frozen sediments occur in a zone delimited by the ∼−2 °C and 0 °C isotherms (17, 18) (Fig. 1B).Open in a separate windowFig. 1.Map and cross-section showing the relationship between shelf edge morphology and the subsurface thermal structure along the shelf edge in the Canadian Beaufort Sea. (A) Shows the location of the study area with respect to estimates of submarine permafrost density (see key) and thickness, modified after 14. Thin contours indicate permafrost thickness in meters. Thicker contour is 120-m isobath marking the shelf edge. Area of repeat mapping coverage shown in Fig. 2 is indicated with a red box. (B) Shows a schematic cross-section with contours of selected subsurface isotherms modified after 15 along line x-x’ in A. The dotted blue line illustrates a thermal minimum (T-min) running through the relict permafrost isotherm and Beaufort Sea waters (16). Green shading indicates relict permafrost. Turquoise arrows show inferred flow of water from permafrost thawing along the base of the relict permafrost to the seafloor. The brown area indicates the zone where relict Pleistocene permafrost is predicted to have thawed with consequent movement of liberated groundwater, associated latent heat transfer and thaw consolidation causing surface settlement. Dashed brown lines define the subbottom limits for methane hydrate stability zone (MHSZ) which starts at ∼240 m below the sea surface and extends into the subsurface depending on the pressure and temperature gradient. The red box indicates the area shown in more detail in C with the same color scheme. The area of denuded seafloor in C is flanked by PLFs (dark-blue fill). Red arrows indicate the direction of heat transfer along the seaward edge of relict permafrost wedge.Distinctive surface morphologies characterize terrestrial permafrost areas. Conical hills (3 to 100 m in diameter) called pingos are common in the Arctic (19, 20). Pingos are formed due to freezing of groundwater. They characteristically contain lenses of nearly pure ground ice that cause heaving of the ground surface. Positive relief features with similar dimensions, referred to as pingo-like features (PLFs), are scattered across the Canadian Beaufort shelf (21, 22). On land, permafrost thawing, where there is ground ice in excess of the sediment pore space, can induce sediment consolidation (23), and surface subsidence results in widespread thermokarst landforms. Among the more dramatic occurrences are retrogressive thaw slumps (4–8, 24). These form where ice-rich permafrost experiences surface thaw causing thaw settlement and release of liquified sediment flows. Because of the loss of volume associated with thawing of massive ground ice, thaw slumps can quickly denude permafrost landscapes.During the first systematic multibeam mapping surveys in 2010 covering part of the shelf edge and slope in the Canadian Beaufort Sea, a band of unusually rough seafloor morphology between ∼120 and ∼200 mwds (25) was discovered along a ∼95-km-long stretch of the shelf. Subsequently, three additional multibeam surveys covering small characteristic areas (Fig. 2A) were conducted to understand the processes responsible for the observed morphologies. Here, we document the unique morphologies and seafloor change in this area and explore how the seafloor features may be related to subsea permafrost degradation and formation.Open in a separate windowFig. 2.(A) Shows bathymetry of a small section of the shelf edge indicated in Fig. 1A, with a color scale going from white (128 m) to blue (200 m) and contours at 120, 140, 170, and 200 mbsf. Outlines of areas resurveyed in 2013 (blue), 2017 (turquoise), and 2019 (green) are superimposed on the 2019 and regional 2010 survey. Colored symbols indicate locations of cores with porewater data using same key as Fig. 5B. The red star indicates the location of a temperature tripod deployed in the period 2015 to 2016. The location of ROV dive tracks (blue paths) are indicated. (B) Covers the same area as A with polygons identifying sites where changes were noted between surveys as follows: 2010 to 2013 (green), 2013 to 2017 (purple), 2017 to 2019 (black), and 2010 and 2019 (red). (C) Shows the same area, colored according to the difference in bathymetry between the 2019 survey and an idealized smooth surface extending between the top of the shelf edge scarp and the layered sediments occurring between the numerous PLFs. This is used to estimate the volume of material that eroded assuming the earlier Holocene seafloor corresponded with this idealized surface. Three zones of topography are labeled. Red boxes are locations of Figs. 3 and ​and5.5. (D) Shows Chirp profiles with the position of profiles shown in C and Fig. 5A. Light-green backdrop in X-X’ indicates possible void produced by retrogressive slide retreat used to calculated volume loss. Also indicated are TL, tilted layers; P, pingo-like-feature; and DR, diffuse reflector.     

In situ structure of intestinal apical surface reveals nanobristles on microvilli

Microvilli are actin-bundle-supported membrane protrusions essential for absorption, secretion, and sensation. Microvilli defects cause gastrointestinal disorders; however, mechanisms controlling microvilli formation and organization remain unresolved. Here, we study microvilli by vitrifying the Caenorhabditis elegans larvae and mouse intestinal tissues with high-pressure freezing, thinning them with cryo-focused ion-beam milling, followed by cryo-electron tomography and subtomogram averaging. We find that many radial nanometer bristles referred to as nanobristles project from the lateral surface of nematode and mouse microvilli. The C. elegans nanobristles are 37.5 nm long and 4.5 nm wide. Nanobristle formation requires a protocadherin family protein, CDH-8, in C. elegans. The loss of nanobristles in cdh-8 mutants slows down animal growth and ectopically increases the number of Y-shaped microvilli, the putative intermediate structures if microvilli split from tips. Our results reveal a potential role of nanobristles in separating microvilli and suggest that microvilli division may help generate nascent microvilli with uniformity.

Microvilli are membrane-bound cell-surface protrusions that contain a core bundle of actin filaments enveloped in the plasma membrane (1–3). Many epithelial cells develop microvilli above their apical surface to enhance functional capacity for a range of physiological tasks, including nutrient absorption in the intestine (4), solute uptake in the renal tubules (5), mechanosensation in sensory stereocilia of the inner ear (6), and chemosensation in the gut, lung, and urogenital tracts (7–9). Abnormal microvillar structure and function lead to human disorders, such as life-threatening nutrient malabsorption, osmotic imbalances, and inherited deafness in Usher syndrome (1, 3, 4, 10).An intestinal absorptive cell enterocyte develops up to 1,000 densely packed microvilli in an array known as the brush border. These fingerlike outward projections enhance the functional surface area for nutrient absorption and provide the barrier for host defense against pathogens and toxins (1, 3, 4). Because the gut epithelium undergoes constant regenerative renewal, microvillus assembly is a process that continues throughout our lifetime (1, 3, 4, 11). The long-standing questions regarding microvillus formation are how microvilli are formed with striking uniformity in sizes and how these protrusions are maximally packed in a hexagonal pattern.The tip of microvilli is known to be decorated by additional filamentous structures. The glycoprotein-rich glycocalyx localizes between the apical tip of microvilli and the luminal space (Fig. 1A), provides a barrier for pathogens, and serves as the interface for nutrient digestion (3, 4). The protocadherin-based adhesion tip links localize between adjacent microvilli (Fig. 1A) (12). The mammalian cadherin superfamily members, including CDHR2 and CDHR5, play essential roles in packing microvilli, increasing surface density, and controlling microvilli length (13). Other cadherins, specifically CDH23 and PCDH15, have been implicated in organizing the exaggerated microvilli found on inner-ear hair cells (14, 15).Open in a separate windowFig. 1.In situ cryo-ET of the C. elegans intestinal brush border reveals nanobristles on the lateral surface of microvilli. (A) A schematic diagram of an intestinal epithelial cell (Left) and two microvilli (Right) from the dotted box in Left. The glycocalyx and the protocadherin tip link are the characterized cell-surface structure at microvillar tips. This work shows that numerous nanobristles (magenta) decorate the lateral surface of microvilli. (B, Left and Center) Representative cryo-SEM images of the C. elegans L1 larvae before and after FIB milling. (Scale bars, 10 μm.) (B, Right) Representative FIB image of the ∼200-nm-thick cryo-lamella. (Scale bar, 5 μm.) (C) A 3D rendering of the C. elegans intestinal brush border showing various macromolecules and structures. Magenta, nanobristles; cyan, membrane; yellow, actin; beige, ribosome; green, mitochondria; orange, ER) Nanobristles and ribosomes were mapped back in the tomogram with the computed location and orientation. (D) A selected microvillus from E magnified for visualization. (E and F) Cryo-ET tomogram slices of microvilli (E, top view; F, side view). (Scale bars in C–F, 50 nm.)An individual microvillus is only 0.1 μm in diameter and 1 to ∼2 μm in height (Fig. 1A), the tiny dimension of which, along with their high density and lumen localization, becomes a technical hurdle for in situ structural investigations at high resolution (1–3). Despite our understanding of microvillar tip decorations, it is unclear whether any structure projects from the lateral surface of microvilli. Recent methodology advance of cryo-electron tomography (cryo-ET) makes the platform well suited to address the challenges of studying microvillus structure in animals (16, 17). Here, we used cryo-ET to reveal a previously unrecognized nanobristle structure on the lateral surface of microvilli. We provide evidence that nanobristle formation depends on a protocadherin family protein, CDH-8, and that nanobristles regulate microvilli separation.