Beyond the double helix: Revisiting James D Watson’s complex legacy after his death

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Like many young students, I found in it not just a scientific fact, but a doorway into understanding life. Watson’s pursuit of discovery made science feel thrilling and accessible, shaping a generation that believed biology’s deepest puzzles could be solved through curiosity and rigorous thinking. His later career extended that promise. At Cold Spring Harbor Laboratory, he helped train molecular biologists and contributed to the early phases of the Human Genome Project, expanding the reach of DNA science far beyond its original discovery.
But admiration does not mean we overlook failings. Watson’s legacy includes significant harm, personal as well as institutional. Central to these concerns is his treatment of Rosalind Franklin. Her X-ray crystallography work, especially “Photo 51”, provided essential evidence for the double helix. Yet, in The Double Helix and for years afterward, her contribution was minimised. Watson’s depictions of Franklin were sexist and dismissive, reducing a brilliant scientist to a stereotype. This was not merely a personal slight, it distorted historical truth. Franklin’s data and insight were indispensable, and her ability to interpret molecular patterns showed a scientific clarity the original narrative failed to acknowledge.
As Watson grew older, his public statements on race and intelligence revealed attitudes that were deeply misguided. Institutions responded: Cold Spring Harbor removed his honorary titles, and he eventually auctioned his Nobel medal, marking a rare public reckoning for a scientist of his stature. These episodes highlight that scientific brilliance cannot excuse ethical responsibility, and that legacy must account for the full spectrum of a life’s impact.
For those of us whose early enthusiasm for DNA came from Watson’s writing, his passing brings mixed emotions. The power of the discovery remains, but so does the responsibility to confront the full story. India’s rapidly expanding scientific landscape adds another dimension. As India invests in genome programmes, builds new research institutions, and encourages more young people to enter science, the lessons of Watson’s legacy feel relevant. The recent BioE3 policy, aimed at strengthening national capacity in biomanufacturing and biotechnology, underscores the need for a scientific culture grounded in fairness, transparency, and shared credit. Ambition alone is not enough, progress depends on how we treat young researchers, how we credit collaborative work, and how honestly we tell the stories of our own discoveries.
Watson’s story reminds us that legacy is complex. It is shaped not only by triumphs such as the double helix and the Nobel Prize but also by omissions and biases that echo across time. These shadows do not erase his contribution, but they do require us to remember science in its full context. The double helix remains one of modern science’s most influential ideas, yet its history encourages us to move past the myth of solitary genius toward a more honest understanding of discovery. As India strengthens its research ecosystem and nurtures new talent, the responsibility grows to build systems that value accuracy, collaboration, and integrity.
The helix will continue to twist forward, shaping medicine, agriculture, and our understanding of life in ways we cannot yet imagine. What remains is the task of ensuring that our collective memory evolves with equal care: more accurate, more inclusive, and more attentive to the people whose work makes discovery possible. As a scientist shaped by the wonder of that molecule, I hope the stories we tell about science will one day carry the clarity of DNA itself, long unbroken strands built from every base that belongs.