Log #14

Hello everyone.

Another day spent tired and far from productive, and since I cannot seem to fall asleep either, I thought I might as well write something random.

There is something about myself that I have been thinking about a lot lately: my productivity has dropped quite seriously over the past one or two years. On top of that, I no longer feel particularly idealistic either. I think I used to be much more inclined to choose the difficult option — the difficult and, in my mind, the right one. If I believed a decision was the ideal one, I was willing to sacrifice myself, my health, and my time for it. I am still like that to some extent, but incomparably less so than before. And honestly, I have no idea what exactly caused this serious loss of motivation. Apparently, I was never really driven by a sense of responsibility in the first place, but rather by large motivations and ideals. I have almost never considered myself a particularly responsible person. I handle things somewhat better when other people are involved, but especially when it comes to myself and the things I am supposed to do, I cannot exactly say I am very responsible. In other words, I do not think I have much of what we would ordinarily call a “sense of duty.” Even though I have always tried to keep working, over the past one or two years other needs have started coming to the foreground much more strongly, and I have begun enjoying work less. Of course, I am still curious, and my belief that science is one of the highest pursuits one can devote oneself to remains completely intact. What surprises me is the comparison with my former self. I think I used to have a rather naive belief that things would simply keep getting better.

No, I mean, this is not fair at all. I have started feeling as though I am wasting my abilities and creativity. It does not feel fair that even though I have largely dealt with the mental and physical health problems I was experiencing, there has still been no real improvement in this direction, as if certain things are still missing. Because I spend an enormous amount of time and, compared with the energy I put in, the return I get from it feels minimal. I have started wondering whether it is even worth it. One of the biggest differences compared with a few years ago is that I used to be a much more passionate person. When I was learning something new, or reading a book — especially if it had anything to do with science — I would get genuinely excited. I could literally feel changes in my heart rate. Actually doing research, on the other hand, may be one of the most boring jobs in the world. I mean, I could almost prefer paperwork over it sometimes, that is how boring it can be. Especially the data collection stage... Going into the laboratory every day and repeating the same procedures over and over again... It almost feels insulting to our intelligence . And yet, obviously, it is indispensable. Do not get me wrong, I generally enjoy laboratory work. But there is a problem with me that almost every professor I have ever worked with has pointed out at some point: no matter what I do, I get bored very quickly. I am simply someone who gets bored extremely easily. That is probably why I am always working on several different projects at the same time. I start one, and very shortly afterwards I begin another. It turns into a kind of cycle, and interestingly enough, by spreading everything over a very long period of time, I somehow manage to finish most of them eventually. But because I get bored so easily, any routine measurement that has to be repeated immediately starts wearing me down — even though I genuinely enjoy being in the laboratory.

Algae and electricity

Microalgae (Nannochloropsis sp.). Image cr: CSIRO / Wikimedia Commons, CC BY 3.0.

There is something I want to leave here as a note for the record. In general, I have a particular interest in algae, and for that reason I try to consume almost any content I can find about them. A few years ago, I came across a video on Cody’s Lab on YouTube in which he was building an algae panel. Later on I saw a few similar algae-panel systems, and in some versions it was even possible to generate electricity from algae. Wow... Almost everyone I mention this to is surprised. And honestly, how could they not be? At first glance, it sounds almost utopian. Are these slimy, algae-like organisms we usually encounter in lakes and shallow seas really capable of producing electricity? The answer, though, is not really in the organism itself, but in the structure of photosynthesis. In other words, the same basic mechanism that allows electricity generation from algae also applies, in principle, to any photosynthetic bacterium or plant.

So what exactly is the logic behind it? Let's start with photosynthesis itself. During photosynthesis, pigments such as chlorophyll absorb a photon, and that energy raises an electron in the pigment to a higher energy level. The electron is then transferred into an electron transport chain; the electrons lost in this process are replaced by splitting water molecules, and O₂ is released in the process. These electron transfers along the chain lead to the production of ATP (the cell’s main energy carrier) and NADPH (a molecule that carries high-energy electrons), which are then used to reduce CO₂ into organic carbon. So, in the broadest possible sense, photosynthesis is a redox mechanism that converts light energy into chemical energy. The basic idea here is actually quite simple. Normally, these high-energy electrons are used by the cell for its own metabolism. However, some cyanobacteria and algae can transfer a small fraction of these electrons outside the cell, or release reduced molecules that are capable of donating electrons to their surroundings. If an electrode capable of accepting those electrons is placed into the system, the electrons can be transferred to the anode and then flow through an external circuit, generating an electric current. At the cathode on the other end of the circuit, the electrons are usually consumed in a reaction such as oxygen reduction. In other words, what you have is essentially a miniature photosynthetic battery.

These systems are generally called biophotovoltaic cells, or simply BPVs. The main difference from a conventional solar panel is that the photons do not generate electricity directly inside a semiconductor. Instead, they first enter the photosynthetic electron transport chain of a living organism. In the simplest possible terms, the process looks like this:

light → photosynthesis → high-energy electron → electrode → electric current.

In some systems, intermediary molecules called “electron mediators” are used to make the transfer of electrons from the cell to the electrode easier; some cyanobacteria and algae, however, are capable of transferring electrons directly to some extent.

There is, of course, one major problem: the amount of power produced is extremely low. So we are not quite at the point where we can wire up a lake and power an entire city with it . What is interesting is that a living, self-renewing photosynthetic system can use sunlight to continuously generate electricity. For that reason, BPV systems are currently more interesting for low-power sensors and small electronic devices that need to operate for long periods with very little maintenance. For me, though, the interesting part has absolutely nothing to do with technological efficiency. If maximum efficiency were the goal, I would simply install a conventional solar panel and be done with it. What excites me is the engineering side of it. I find the whole idea fascinating.

If I ever end up living in a house with a garden, I can already imagine a large part of that garden being taken over by some ridiculous algae aquarium. Beyond the fact that you could run all sorts of experiments with algae, the idea of producing electricity while simultaneously reducing carbon emissions feels incredibly simple and strangely utopian at the same time...