You received the Nobel Prize almost three years ago, for research that led to molecular motors in the late 1990s. How have things progressed since that initial discovery?

I should actually start at the beginning. At the end of the 1980s, there was a new grant programme where you could work on new materials and I thought: let's do optical information storage with molecules, similar to how the molecules in your eye can transmit information to the brain as soon as light shines on it. I remembered something from my PhD thesis that was completely useless at the time, but seemed very well suited for this. Based on that, we then built a molecular switching system in which you could store information. Ten years later, we found out that one of those molecules didn't switch back and forth but just kept going. Once we understood that, we built a molecular motor, a rotational motor. And that's how it all started, with a bit of a coincidence. Actually, the whole fundamental question was: how can I make something move? After all, our bodies can. Everything in your body is moved by nanomotors, devised for us by evolution. But the materials we can make as humans cannot move on their own at that molecular level. When we started working on it and found out that we could make something that can move at the molecular level, the gate was opened. Because of course that has all kinds of fancy possibilities. We put windmills on surfaces so that you can influence those surfaces, for example make them clean themselves. We built a nano-car, made things move, and last year we built an artificial muscle; millions of motors working together could pick up a piece of paper.

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It seems like curiosity-driven and applied research alternate in the process.

Once you have discovered something, you naturally start thinking about its possibilities. We have long since moved away from that information storage, but we are now working on building those circuits into drugs. You can already feel it coming: you have an infection in your chest and you get antibiotics that you can turn on and off. You switch the medicine on at the right time and at the place where the infection is, and after 24 hours it switches off again. We hope this will allow us to get much more selective therapy, and reduce antibiotic resistance. It might also help to apply chemotherapy much more precisely. Anyway, how often do you really make a discovery like this? It's not that often. That's pure coincidence. After that, a lot of new possibilities open up.

But those medicines are still in the future. Do you also have an example of such a discovery that has already led to an application?

An older example is those physicists and chemists working on transistors and display materials in the late 1940s and early 1950s. Molecules in an LCD display organise themselves like floating logs in rivers, and when they change position you get colours. That was fundamental research: how can you direct electrical charges in one direction, and how can you turn molecules into colour pixels? Of course, nobody knew that we would ever use that to build laptops and screens. The word mobile phone didn't even exist yet. We sometimes forget that the smartphone was only introduced in the Netherlands 11 years ago. Now we can't imagine the world without it. So we can fantasise what will be done with our research 50 years from now, but it's hard to imagine that now. But I can predict, if you can make something move instead of just standing still then new possibilities open up. Maybe not with the molecule I invented, but the principle exists now.

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What has the Nobel Prize meant for your personal position?

First of all, it is a huge honour. It's a child’s dream when you start out as a fledgling scientist. You then look up to all these heroes - the Johan Cruijffs and Messis of science. Then you feel very small and insignificant and you also realise that you are only a small part of the whole thing called science. You also realise that many others in the world qualify. But it's fantastic, a dream. What happens next is that you become a bit of a public figure. You get invitations from everywhere, a deluge of questions and things you get involved in. Sadly, I often have to say no and disappoint people. It is a lot of fun though and I do enjoy it too, you know. But I do have to make choices. I still lecture, albeit a bit less than before, and I do research. Science is wonderful and educating young people is also fantastic. But after the award, I decided to go to schools and events to spread the importance of science and education, and I do that regularly. I travel the world and of course it takes time, but I also enjoy doing it and it is very fulfilling. I think it is also very necessary to make it clear that we will not get ahead with ignorance and incompetence. We need to look ahead: what does insight and knowledge have to offer us, and how can we properly train our young people for the future?

So you are invited everywhere and your opinion is asked about all sorts of things. Does that feel like an extra responsibility?

I don't need to be up front. Nor do I have an opinion on everything. A private opinion maybe, but it is no more valuable than that of someone you meet in the pub. I am a beta scientist and I think I do have a reasonable knowledge of chemistry. But you have to be incredibly careful that you don't then suddenly think you know about everything. I know no more about most things than anyone else. Maybe a bit more about history because that's my hobby and I like gardening and I come from a farm so I know a bit about agriculture. My wife once said to a journalist: "Well, I think he knows a lot about chemistry". I liked that summary, it puts things into perspective quite a bit. So modesty is in order. I can propagate science and say why education is important and that we must look to the future. But you shouldn't assume things you don't know about. Then you would have to delve into it first, so there is no value in my opinion there. I have also learned to become more humble over the last 30 years. That's because my admiration for how Mother Nature works has only increased, and because of what we don't know yet: every new insight raises ten new questions.

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Now science is a team sport and yet this Nobel Prize is very much focused on individuals. How do you feel about that?

You get that prize because you are the one who has made important new breakthroughs. In our field, of course, you don't do that in isolation. I was the one who led the team and generated important ideas that might lead to breakthroughs. That these are sometimes accidental breakthroughs does not detract much from that. Often it is quite easy to identify who had the final idea, or who ultimately made the breakthrough happen. I think this is how science works, although of course it depends on the field. But there are already team prizes in engineering, for example.

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How is the Netherlands actually doing in terms of prizes?

In the Netherlands, awards for scientists are thin on the ground. In America in particular, but also in England, it is much more obvious that they are trying to encourage those young people. If you do well in the first years of your career, there are so many awards there, they are totally geared towards that. You quickly get an award or recognition. In the Netherlands, we are a bit more modest about it, although that has been changing recently. Some awards have been added for young people, but it would be good if that attracted a bit more in the Netherlands.

How would we best approach that?

In America, you see all kinds of ways to give people recognition. There you have a lot of older people who have their roots in university but are now entrepreneurs and wealthy. They just start a prize, with an idea that, for example, the best students at their university can compete. Then they attach their name to it, but that's fine. By doing so, you do give an incentive to those students. It is a pity that in this country there are not more people who do have a lot of money giving prizes to talents. Sometimes I see Americans and Dutchmen who are the same age, and those Americans have already got five prizes and the Dutchmen zero. While the Dutchman might be a much better scientist. Then I think: Come on Netherlands, we have a lot of money too! There are culture awards, but there should be more for scientists. Just start a fund and give a prize for young talent. That would be an enormous incentive.

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Is the modest, down-to-earth Groninger actually saying that we should celebrate a little more in science?

I welcome awards like the Ammodo Science Award or the Spinoza Prize. We could give a bit more cachet to science in the Netherlands. Because that is also important: that role of science in the country. If you look at the world of literature, TV or culture, there every little thing is widely reported and praised. Well, when is there ever a gala for science? There aren't that many. I think scientists - if you compare that to top athletes, because this is just top sport - could do with a bit more recognition. These are also our heroes. Also think of the role model function it has for our young talents. In the Netherlands, a child does not necessarily have to become a television star or top athlete to look good. You can also achieve that by using your brain and being creative. Isn't that fantastic!

When did you actually lose your heart to science yourself?

I studied here in Groningen, and did my PhD research, with Hans Wijnberg's group. Wijnberg really encouraged me to work on difficult things. I remember making a molecule as a student in the lab. Then I came into Wijnberg's room and he said, "Oh, no one has ever made this molecule, not even in America." Well, that's when I got such a kick out of it! That was so beautiful, like composing your first piece of music. Of course, the whole molecule was totally useless, but that didn't matter. It was that kick of self-discovery. That idea of something unexpected, something exciting, even if it's so small. Imagine being a young footballer and scoring your first goal. You get a hunger for more! Then you think: Could I ever play for Ajax? You then understand the feeling of excitement and sensation. But also the perseverance, because you often hit a wall. It is incredibly exciting to figure things out, and sometimes you really feel like a toddler trying to discover all those things. But you need to be able to handle frustration and uncertainty. If you want a job with a lot of security, don't become a researcher.

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Published on 7 January 2020.