James Watson, the controversial and unrepentant Nobel Prize winning scientist, has died at the age of 97. He was famous, of course, for his central role in discovering the structure of DNA as a double helix. His scientific contributions should continue as they illuminate the continuing path of genetics for humanity. Unfortunately, his racist and sexist views that continue to influence the fields of sociology, education, and human resources have branded his legacy. MIT biologist H. Robert Horvitz once called Watson “intuitive.” Unfortunately for the scientific community’s relationship with the public, his groundbreaking achievements were undercut by inflammatory rhetoric that largely turned the scientific community against him.
From the start, Watson’s career was marked by an over-the-top attitude towards science and a steadfast arrogance in his talent. He turned around Cold Spring Harbor Laboratory on New York’s Long Island. It quickly developed into a powerhouse for molecular biology, particularly in the field of genetics and later, cancer research. His leadership as the first director of the national Human Genome Project solidified his status as a giant of science. Most of his contemporaries were deeply dubious about the move.
Even with these accomplishments, Watson’s public reputation nosedived. His blatant and frequently distasteful remarks on race and gender were met with strong rebuke. As it turned out, his unrepentant racism and sexism led him to become such a pariah among his peers that he was forced out. His refusal to acknowledge the shaky foundations of his scientific assertions, even when urged by friends, contributed to his untouchable status within academia and research institutions.
Yet Watson’s ideas about women in science were among his most objectionable views. He was convinced beyond a doubt that women were incapable of pursuing scientific work. This resistant attitude only distanced him more from the activists and scientists who challenged racism in the industry. His comments generated a firestorm of criticism and eventually prompted various museums and universities to withdraw their invitations for him to give talks. In this growing climate of intolerance towards his overtly racist positions, Cold Spring Harbor Laboratory eventually cut ties with him.
Looking back on his life and legacy, Watson displayed a fractious attitude toward history and legacy. Or perhaps he wanted history to remember him positively. At the same time, his childhood friends were struggling to reconcile this desire—his desire—with his actions. At 90, he confided in friends about his concern for how history would remember him, despite his apparent disdain for established norms and expertise throughout his life.
Watson’s self-perception was grandiose. He viewed himself “as the greatest scientist since Newton or Darwin.” It was this perspective combined with a remarkably dogmatic and “smartest-guy-in-the-room” attitude that could make him quite irreconcilable with other scientists. His disdain for experts and traditional methodologies began in 1953. That year, marked by high paranoia and low morale, he and Francis Crick would make their very first, very famous discovery. Even by that relatively early point in his career, Watson was quite autodidactic and had little scaffolding to understand molecular architecture.
His controversial views were often articulated bluntly. “There is no firm reason to anticipate that the intellectual capacities of peoples geographically separated in their evolution should prove to have evolved identically,” he stated, reflecting his belief in inherent differences among races. He questioned the implications of nurture versus nature in scientific achievement, stating, “Anyone sincerely interested in understanding the imbalance in the representation of men and women in science must reasonably be prepared at least to consider the extent to which nature may figure.”
Watson’s friends and colleagues never got used to having to separate Watson’s scientific genius from his personal bigotry. Renowned evolutionary biologist Ernst Mayr remarked, “He fell flat on his nose on all these problems,” while E.O. Wilson described him as “the most unpleasant human being I had ever met.” As Wilson pointed out, Watson “emitted hostility in every direction,” underscoring how much of a toxic presence his demeanor proved to be.
Watson’s views were often perceived as unpopular. Friends acknowledged that he didn’t just enjoy, but reveled in, the art of provocation. “He just enjoyed getting a rise out of people,” one lab friend remembered, indicating that his more egregious public statements were often designed to shock rather than enlighten.
