01 Pekan 1 - Gregor Mendel and The Laws of Inheritance
01 Pekan 1 - Gregor Mendel and The Laws of Inheritance
01 Pekan 1 - Gregor Mendel and The Laws of Inheritance
In his breeding experiments, Mendel studied contrasting characters in the garden pea, using for each
experiment varieties that differed in only one characteristic.[1] What did Mendel do differently from those
who preceded him? First, he chose the garden pea (Pisum sativum) as his experimental organism (Fig. 1.4a
and b). Each pea flower has both male and female organs, which made it easy to self-fertilize or cross-
fertilize plants. In self-fertilization (or selfing), both egg and pollen come from the same plant, often from
the same flower. Peas normally self-fertilize because of the proximity of egg and pollen. To cross-fertilize
(cross) two plants, Mendel removed the male sex organs from the flowers of one plant (to prevent selfing),
and then he brushed pollen from the other plant onto the female organs of the first plant (Fig. 1.4c). Peas
offered yet another advantage. For each successive generation, Mendel could obtain large numbers of
individuals within a relatively short growing season.[2]
Second, Mendel examined the inheritance of clear-cut alternative states of particular traits—purple
versus white flower color, yellow versus green pea color. He could trace unambiguously the transmission of
such either-or traits, because no intermediate forms existed. (The opposite of these so-called discrete traits
are continuous traits, such as height and skin color in humans. Continuous traits show many intermediate
forms.)[2]
Third, Mendel collected and perpetuated lines of peas that bred true. Matings within such pure-
breeding (or true-breeding) lines produce offspring carrying specific parental characteristics that remain
constant from generation to generation. These lines are also called inbred because they have been mated
only to each other for many generations. Plants with white flowers always produced offspring with white
flowers; plants with purple flowers produced only offspring with purple flowers. Mendel called constant but
mutually exclusive alternatives, such as purple versus white flowers or yellow versus green seeds
antagonistic pairs, and he settled on seven such pairs for his study (Fig. 1.5). In his experiments, Mendel
cross-fertilized pairs of plants to produce hybrids, offspring of genetically dissimilar parents, for each
antagonistic pair. Figure 1.5 shows the appearance of the hybrids he studied.[2]
Fourth, Mendel made reciprocal crosses, in which he reversed the characteristics of the male and
female parents, thus controlling whether a particular characteristic was transmitted via the egg cell within the
ovule or via a sperm cell within the pollen. For example, he could use pollen from a purple flower to fertilize
the eggs of a white flower and also use pollen from a white flower to fertilize the eggs of a purple flower.
Because the progeny of these reciprocal crosses were similar, Mendel demonstrated that the two parents
contribute equally to inheritance.[2]
Fifth, Mendel worked with large numbers of plants, counted all offspring, subjected his findings to
numerical analysis, and then compared his results with predictions based on his models. He was the first
person to study inheritance in this quantitative manner. Mendel’s careful numerical analysis revealed
patterns of transmission that reflected basic laws of heredity.[2]
Finally, Mendel was a brilliant practical experimentalist. When comparing tall and short plants, for
example, he made sure that the short ones were out of the shade of the tall ones so their growth would not be
stunted. In short, Mendel purposely set up a simplified black-and-white experimental system and then
figured out how it worked. He looked at discrete traits that came in two mutually exclusive forms and asked
questions that could be answered by observation and computation.[2]
Once Mendel had isolated pure-breeding lines for several sets of characteristics, he carried out a series
of matings between individuals that differed in only one trait, such as seed color or stem length. In each cross,
one parent has one form of the trait, and the other parent has the antagonistic characteristic. Figure 1.6
illustrates one such mating. Mendel planted pure-breeding green peas and purebreeding yellow peas and allowed
them to grow into the parental (P) generation. When the plants had flowered, he brushed the stigma of green-
pea plant flowers with pollen from yellow-pea plants. He also performed the reciprocal cross, dusting yellow-
pea plant stigmas with green-pea pollen. He found that in both cases, the peas produced were all yellow.[2]
These yellow peas, progeny of the P generation, were the first filial (F1) generation. To learn whether
the green characteristic had disappeared entirely or remained intact but hidden in these F1 yellow peas, Mendel
planted them to obtain mature F1 plants that he allowed to self-fertilize. Such experiments involving hybrids for
a single trait are called monohybrid crosses. He then harvested and counted the peas of the resulting second
filial (F2) generation, progeny of the F1 generation. The progeny of one series of F1 self-fertilizations were
6022 yellow and 2001 green F2 peas, an almost perfect ratio of 3 yellow : 1 green. F1 plants derived from the
reciprocal of the original cross produced a similar 3:1 ratio of yellow to green F2 progeny.[2]
When the connection between mendelian inheritance and chromosomes was first made, the normal
chromosome number in humans was thought to be 48, although various papers had come up with a range of
figures. Key to the number 48 was a paper in 1921 from Theophilus Painter, an American cytologist who had
been a student of Boveri. In fact, Painter had some preparations clearly showing 46 chromosomes, even though
he finally settled on 48. The discrepancies were probably from the poor quality of the material at that time; even
into the early 1950s cytologists were counting 48 chromosomes. It was not until 1956 that the correct number of
46 was established by Tjio and Levan, 3 years after the correct structure of DNA had been proposed. Within a
few years, it was shown that some disorders in humans could be caused by loss or gain of a whole chromosome,
as well as by an abnormality in a single gene. Chromosome disorders are discussed at length in Chapter 17.
Some chromosome aberrations, such as translocations, can run in families (p. 37), and are sometimes said to be
segregating in a mendelian fashion.[1]
The correctness of gene order suggested by crosses of two gene factors can usually be
unambiguously confirmed by three-factor crosses. When the three genes used in the preceding example
are followed in the cross ABC abc, six recombinant genotypes are found (Fig. 1-7). They fall into three
groups of reciprocal pairs. The rarest of these groups arises from a double crossover. By looking for the
least frequent class, it is often possible to instantly confirm (or deny) a postulated arrangement. The
results in Figure 1-7 immediately confirm the order hinted at by the two-factor crosses. Only if the order
is a-c-b does the fact that the rare recombinants are AcB and aCb make sense.[3]
The existence of multiple crossovers means that the amount of recombination between the outside
markers a and b (ab) is usually less than the sum of the recombination frequencies between a and c (ac)
and c and b (cb). To obtain a more accurate approximation of the distance between the outside markers,
we calculate the probability (ac cb) that when a crossover occurs between c and b, a crossover also
occurs between a and c, and vice versa (cb ac). This probability subtracted from the sum of the
frequencies expresses more accurately the amount of recombination. The simple formula
ab = ac + cb - 2(ac)(cb)
is applicable in all cases where the occurrence of one crossover does not affect the probability of another
crossover. Unfortunately, accurate mapping is often disturbed by interference phenomena, which can
either increase or decrease the probability of correlated crossovers.[3]
Using such reasoning, the Columbia University group headed by Morgan had by 1915 assigned
locations to more than 85 mutant genes in Drosophila (Table 1-1), placing each of them at distinct spots
on one of the four linkage groups, or chromosomes. Most importantly, all the genes on a given
chromosome were located on a line. The gene arrangement was strictly linear and never branched. The
genetic map of one of the chromosomes of Drosophila is shown in Figure 1-8. Distances between genes
on such a map are measured in map units, which are related to the frequency of recombination between
the genes. Thus, if the frequency of recombination between two genes is found to be 5%, the genes are
said to be separated by five map units. Because of the high probability of double crossovers between
widely spaced genes, such assignments of map units can be considered accurate only if recombination
between closely spaced genes is followed.[3]
Even when two genes are at the far ends of a very long chromosome, they assort together at least
50% of the time because of multiple crossovers. The two genes will be separated if an odd number of
crossovers occurs between them, but they will end up together if an even number occurs between them.
Thus, in the beginning of the genetic analysis of Drosophila, it was often impossible to determine
whether two genes were on different chromosomes or at the opposite ends of one long chromosome.
Only after large numbers of genes had been mapped was it possible to demonstrate convincingly that the
number of linkage groups equalled the number of cytologically visible chromosomes. In 1915, Morgan,
with his students Alfred H. Sturtevant, Hermann J. Muller, and Calvin B. Bridges, published their
definitive book The Mechanism of Mendelian Heredity, which first announced the general validity of the
chromosomal basis of heredity. We now rank this concept, along with the theories of evolution and the
cell, as a major achievement in our quest to understand the nature of the living world.[3]
VII. EARLY SPECULATIONS ABOUT WHAT GENES ARE AND HOW THEY ACT
Almost immediately after the rediscovery of Mendel’s laws, geneticists began to speculate about
both the chemical structure of the gene and the way it acts. No real progress could be made, however,
because the chemical identity of the genetic material remained unknown. Even the realization that both
nucleic acids and proteins are present in chromosomes did not really help, since the structure of neither
was at all understood. The most fruitful speculations focused attention on the fact that genes must be, in
some sense, self-duplicating. Their structure must be exactly copied every time one chromosome
becomes two. This fact immediately raised the profound chemical question of how a complicated
molecule could be precisely copied to yield exact replicas.[3]
Some physicists also became intrigued with the gene, and when quantum mechanics burst on the
scene in the late 1920s, the possibility arose that in order to understand the gene, it would first be
necessary to master the subtleties of the most advanced theoretical physics. Such thoughts, however,
never really took root, since it was obvious that even the best physicists or theoretical chemists would not
concern themselves with a substance whose structure still awaited elucidation. There was only one fact
that they might ponder: Muller’s and L.J. Stadler’s independent 1927 discoveries that X-rays induce
mutations. Because there is a greater possibility that an X-ray will hit a larger gene than a smaller gene,
the frequency of mutations induced in a given gene by a given X-ray dose yields an estimate of the size
of this gene. But even here, so many special assumptions were required that virtually no one, not even
Muller and Stadler themselves, took the estimates very seriously.[3]
VIII. PRELIMINARY ATTEMPTS TO FIND A GENE–PROTEIN RELATIONSHIP
The most fruitful early endeavors to find a relationship between genes and proteins examined the
ways in which gene changes affect which proteins are present in the cell. At first these studies were
difficult, because no one knew anything about the proteins that were present in structures such as the eye
or the wing. It soon became clear that genes with simple metabolic functions would be easier to study
than genes affecting gross structures. One of the first useful examples came from a study of a hereditary
disease affecting amino acid metabolism. Spontaneous mutations occur in humans affecting the ability to
metabolize the amino acid phenylalanine. When individuals homozygous for the mutant trait eat food
containing phenylalanine, their inability to convert the amino acid to tyrosine causes a toxic level of
phenylpyruvic acid to build up in the bloodstream. Such diseases, examples of “inborn errors of
metabolism,” suggested to English physician Archibald E. Garrod, as early as 1909, that the wild-type
gene is responsible for the presence of a particular enzyme, and that in a homozygous mutant, the
enzyme is congenitally absent.[3]
Garrod’s general hypothesis of a gene–enzyme relationship was extended in the 1930s by work on
flower pigments by Haldane and Rose ScottMoncrieff in England, studies on the hair pigment of the
guinea pig by Wright in the United States, and research on the pigments of insect eyes by A. Kuhn in
Germany and by Boris Ephrussi and George W. Beadle, working first in France and then in California. In
all cases, the evidence revealed that a particular gene affected a particular step in the formation of the
respective pigment whose absence changed, say, the color of a fly’s eyes from red to ruby. However, the
lack of fundamental knowledge about the structures of the relevant enzymes ruled out deeper
examination of the gene–enzyme relationship, and no assurance could be given either that most genes
control the synthesis of proteins (by then it was suspected that all enzymes were proteins) or that all
proteins are under gene control.[3]
As early as 1936, it became apparent to the Mendelian geneticists that future experiments of the
sort successful in elucidating the basic features of Mendelian genetics were unlikely to yield productive
evidence about how genes act. Instead, it would be necessary to find biological objects more suitable for
chemical analysis. They were aware, moreover, that contemporary knowledge of nucleic acid and protein
chemistry was completely inadequate for a fundamental chemical attack on even the most suitable
biological systems. Fortunately, however, the limitations in chemistry did not deter them from learning
how to do genetic experiments with chemically simple molds, bacteria, and viruses. As we shall see, the
necessary chemical facts became available almost as soon as the geneticists were ready to use them.[3]