Margulis va tenir una relació molt especial amb la Universitat de València, que la va incorporar al seu claustre de doctors en 2001 i li ha publicat diverses obres. Ella sempre es va mostrar disposada a col·laborar amb tots nosaltres, discutir resultats de la recerca, deixar-se entrevistar per periodistes (només si venien de la nostra part!), publicar un article en Mètode, fer una conferència als estudiants (la primera fou en gener de 1992), presentar la seua darrera obra a la Fira del Llibre, o intervenir en instàncies internacionals per aconseguir-nos la seu d’un important congrés científic.

Conservaré com un tresor el record de la Lynn agosarada i lliure, sempre energètica i alegre, amb unes ganes immenses d’aprendre i de conversar. Aquella Lynn que, segons el nostre comú amic Antonio Lazcano, tractava els seus fills com si foren estudiants i als seus estudiants como si foren fills. Vull recordar-la relliscant i enfangant-se en la marjal del Moro, quan anàrem amb Martí Domínguez a la cerca del protist més excèntric que pogués imaginar. O amb les sabates a la mà i el seu jupetí florejat, camí de la sala de conferències a vessar de gent. O endormiscant-se en un congrés per a despertar-se de colp i fer la pregunta més oportuna i intel·ligent. La Lynn devoradora de llibres i de música clàssica, la que detestava per igual la televisió i el jazz. La que seia a taula i menjava de tots els cinc regnes i amb gana, la que admirava i apreciava el menjar més casolà. La Lynn que parava una conferència fins que no deixàvem els llums com ella volia, per veure bé les pel·lícules que portava, o la megafonia adequada per escoltar bé la banda sonora (composada per un dels seus fills). La que suportava estoicament una llarga cua d’admiradors, d’estudiants i de professors de batxillerat o d’universitat, que volien parlar amb ella o recollir un autògraf. La Lynn sempre propera, afable, vitalista, a qui tiraré molt a faltar i sempre li agrairé aquests vint anys d’amistat i d’inspiració generosa per al meu treball sobre simbiosi.

A few weeks ago President Fabra boasted of his support for scientific research to past winners of the Jaume I awards. Shortly after he awarded this year’s Jaume I prize at the medieval trade exchange building, Llotja dels Mercaders de València, Juan Roig, a businessman and founder of the Mercadona supermarket chain, spoke on behalf of the winners. Roig proclaimed hard work ethics to be the key to overcoming the crisis. Just a few steps away, listening to this speech, was the winner of the award for clinical research, Prof. Carlos Simón, scientific director of the CIPF, now resigned. Almost simultaneously, the Human Resources department at the CIPF was sending out an email announcing the official start of the downsizing plan at the centre, due to the economic depression to which the regional government has condemned it, however much they would like to cast the blame on Zapatero’s government. The centre has been cut back to 12 research fields, in some cases leading to an insurmountable predicament, affecting 108 workers and sweeping before it the effort and enthusiasm of six PhD candidates whose dissertations remain unfinished.  Twenty-four hours later, Rubén Moreno informed the CIPF that he was giving up the post of general director at the Centre to stand as a candidate for Spain’s conservative party, Partido Popular, in the Lower Chamber or “Congress of Deputies. The following day the press informed us that a golf tournament backed by the former president of the Castellón County Council, the other “Fabra”, was to receive three million euros from the Government’s meagre budget. Most ironic.

The result of what we have seen in just one week of the official discourse preaching excellence, internationalization, and the regional government’s efforts and support of research, is the reality that the President of the Valencian Government, the Valencian Health Minister and its flagship, Valencian biomedical research, are all left standing stark naked. The scientific director resigns, the director-general escapes –neither one empty handed–, the CIPF falls in the shadow of death and over a hundred workers are thrown into unemployment’s dark void, thanks to the far from satisfactory management of all those responsible (including the eternal courtly adviser, Santiago Grisolía). Left is the frustration of many dreams, of passion for science, and of much voluntarism. This is the sad reality of the great sham of Valencian politics, the showy politics of squandering our heritage in shady businesses that benefit only a few -and wantonly play with our future.

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The crisis of CIFP after Nature and Science.

Spanish scientists stage a pink slip wake. On 2 November, staff at the Prince Felipe Research Center (CIPF) protested cuts to biomedical research leading to more than 100 layoffs with an unusual event: a memorial service.

CIPF, a private foundation that opened in 2005 with money from the European Regional Development Fund, ran into trouble when the Valencian regional government drastically slashed its funding. Rafael Pulido, a group leader at CIPF and head of the workers' union, says the institution received only 60% of the already-spent 2009 budget and that the 2010 budget was slashed by a third. “Suddenly we were bankrupt” with €7 million in debt, Pulido says.

Negotiations with the union over the layoffs are ongoing, with a final decision on how many employees will be affected expected in early December. Pulido isn't optimistic. Even those allowed to stay, he says, will have to work without proper funding, technical support, and day-to-day peer interactions. The regional government has put the center on a “slow death” sentence, he says.

El web Seven Billion and Me, propiciat per l'ONU, s'obre amb un comptador de la població mundial actual. Si hi introduïu les vostres dades (lloc i data de naixement) podreu saber quin lloc ocupeu en la història de la humanitat, quanta gent ha nascut i mort des que sou ací i altres dades ben curioses.

Il·lustració de Clay Bennett.