The More the Mer­rier

by Elio

Some­thing there is that likes to mull over sym­bioses. In­deed, what is more en­joy­able to contem­plate than the re­la­tion­ship be­tween two or­gan­isms? The an­swer? One that in­volves three, or four, or even more. Not that this is un­usual, just that it's al­ways ex­cit­ing. Here are two ex­am­ples.

Cer­tain in­sects, no­tably leaf-cut­ting ants, live off a fun­gus that they cul­ti­vate in house on mas­ti­cated and trit­u­rated plant ma­te­r­ial they bring into their nest. They have a prob­lem, to wit, un­wanted fungi can also grow on this fer­tile soil. How to make sure that only the de­sired crop, and not weeds, grows?

Leaf cut­ting ants. Source

The an­swer – the same as more re­cently de­vised by hu­man farm­ers – is to use a chem­i­cal weed-killer (but a nat­ural fungi­cide, phew!). Such a com­pound is made by an­other part­ner in the deal, an actin­o­mycete that the ants carry in abun­dance on their back. This part­ner­ship has been fine-tuned over mil­len­nia; the fungi­cide is highly spe­cific for the num­ber one crop pest, the par­a­sitic mi­cro­fun­gus Es­cov­op­sis. Re­cently, yet an­other player was added to the ros­ter, a black yeast that is an an­tag­o­nist to the actin­o­mycete. The yeast thus re­duces the amount of fungi­cide pro­duced, to the detri­ment of the ant colony. Let's see, is that four play­ers, or five?

SEM mi­cro­graph of adult south­ern pine bee­tle. The ar­row in­di­cates the lo­ca­tion of a myc­etangium used to trans­port En­to­mo­corticium spp. Source

Now along comes an­other story from the lab of Cameron Cur­rie, the dis­cov­erer of the leaf cut­ter ant multi-ac­tor troupe. Some bee­tles, for ex­am­ple, the South­ern pine bee­tle, tun­nel through the bark of trees, even­tu­ally girdling and killing them. Their lar­vae sub­sist on a fun­gus, En­to­mo­cor­ti­cium spp., whose pres­ence is en­sured by the par­ent. Adult bee­tles carry this fun­gus in a spe­cial­ized sac called a myc­etangium, ready at hand for in­oc­u­lat­ing into the bark.

Just as in the case of the ants, there is a com­pet­ing fun­gus, Ophios­toma mi­nus, that can out­grow the de­sir­able one. Again, an actin­o­mycete comes to the res­cue by mak­ing an anti-Ophios­toma an­tibi­otic. This an­ti­fun­gal, called My­cangimycin, is a novel 20-car­bon car­boxylic acid with lots of dou­ble bonds and a five-mem­bered en­doper­ox­ide ring.

The struc­ture of my­cangimycin, a seven-con­ju­gated dou­ble bond chain and a five-mem­bered en­doper­ox­ide ring. Source

One would guess that in­sects who have close relation­ships with fungi (and which don't?) are be­ing "mined" by drug-seek­ers for new, and per­haps spe­cific, an­ti­fun­gal an­tibi­otics. It would be nice if ba­sic stud­ies of sym­bio­sis led to such prac­ti­cal dis­cov­er­ies.

 

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17 years ago

It's like a Chi­nese Box: lay­ers upon lay­ers upon lay­ers. And at the base? Mi­cro­bial su­premacy! And our mi­cro­bial friends have much to teach us.
Not to wax Bib­li­cal, let alone Tal­mu­dic (too many years in Sun­day School as a child, per­haps), but this comes to mind, from Job 12: 7–8:
"But ask now the beasts, and they shall teach thee; and the fowls of the air, and they shall tell thee:
Or speak to the earth, and it shall teach thee: and the fishes of the sea shall de­clare unto thee."
How much more elo­quent are the myr­iad and an­cient mi­crobes all around (and upon and within) us! Evo­lu­tion has tuned them to such in­tri­cate and in­ter­re­lated per­fec­tion! Sym­bi­otic as­so­ci­a­tions like you de­scribe may pro­vide us with new med­i­cines and ap­proaches to therapies—as well as their in­trin­si­cally in­ter­est­ing and in­for­ma­tive na­tures.
Won­der­ful post, Elio. I hope to teach a sem­i­nar course in mi­cro­bial sym­bioses next year; we'll see if it is ap­proved. Yet more grist for the mill.
I was for­tu­nate enough to visit Pro­fes­sor Cur­rie at Madi­son a few years ago. I will not soon for­get his show­ing me a room filled with plas­tic tanks with var­i­ous species of ants scur­ry­ing around leaf lit­ter. The very soft spo­ken and quite nice Pro­fes­sor Cur­rie reached into one tank, and pulled out a huge queen to show me...while de­fend­ing ants swarmed up his arm, vis­i­bly bit­ing him. With­out re­act­ing, he con­tin­u­ing telling me with great en­thu­si­asm about the queen in his one hand, while gen­tly pulling off the de­fend­ers and toss­ing them back into the tank with his other hand.
I paid very, very close at­ten­tion to where those ants went, and to Pro­fes­sor Currie's an­i­mated de­scrip­tion of his re­search!
Again, what a lovely post to see af­ter lec­ture to­day!

17 years ago

An­other in­ter­est­ing pa­per from the Cur­rie lab. But there's still a big mys­tery about the fungi­cide-pro­duc­ing actin­o­mycetes. Mu­tants that knock out fungi­cide pro­duc­tion must oc­cur all the time. Pro­duc­ing fungi­cide has a meta­bolic cost. So why don't non­pro­duc­ing mu­tants out­com­pete fungi­cide pro­duc­ers on each in­di­vid­ual ant? Sure, in the long run, spread of this mu­tant could hurt all the actin­o­mycetes, as the ant colony col­lapses, but nat­ural se­lec­tion has no fore­sight. See link for a pos­si­ble an­swer.