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Mycobacterium tuberculosis : the honey badger of pathogens

2021; Springer Nature; Volume: 22; Issue: 9 Linguagem: Inglês

10.15252/embr.202153619

1469-3178

K. Heran Darwin,

Immune responses and vaccinations

Opinion28 July 2021free access Mycobacterium tuberculosis: the honey badger of pathogens K Heran Darwin Corresponding Author K Heran Darwin [email protected] orcid.org/0000-0002-5043-7548 New York University School of Medicine, New York, NY, USA Search for more papers by this author K Heran Darwin Corresponding Author K Heran Darwin [email protected] orcid.org/0000-0002-5043-7548 New York University School of Medicine, New York, NY, USA Search for more papers by this author Author Information K Heran Darwin *,1 1New York University School of Medicine, New York, NY, USA **Corresponding author. E-mail: [email protected] EMBO Reports (2021)22:e53619https://doi.org/10.15252/embr.202153619 K Heran Darwin is a regular columnist for EMBO Reports. PDFDownload PDF of article text and main figures. ToolsAdd to favoritesDownload CitationsTrack CitationsPermissions ShareFacebookTwitterLinked InMendeleyWechatReddit Figures & Info I have always been interested in infectious diseases since I began to study biology. As a graduate student, my pathogen of choice was Salmonella typhimurium, which typically causes diarrhea that can potentially lead to death. Salmonella's rapid doubling time, and the availability of elegant genetic tools, a wealth of reagents, and a robust animal infection model put this bug at the apex of ideal host–pathogen systems to study. After I finished my PhD studies—and for reasons to be told another day—my career took an unexpected detour into an area of research I never thought I would be interested in: I went from the sublime to the ridiculous, from Salmonella to Mycobacterium tuberculosis (Mtb), an excruciatingly slow-growing bacillus with few genetic tools, a paucity of reagents, and an animal model in which an experiment can take a year or longer. Having said all of that, I love working on this pathogen. For those of you who do not know much about Mtb, it is the world's deadliest bacterium that causes the disease tuberculosis (TB). As Mtb is spread in aerosol droplets coughed up by infected individuals, TB is highly contagious, and about one-third of the world's population may be infected with Mtb, although this number has been reasonably challenged (Behr et al, 2021). Even if the numbers of latent or asymptomatic infections are debated, there are some back-of-the-envelope estimates that Mtb has killed more than a billion humans over the millennia. Although TB is often treatable with antibiotics and most Mtb-infected healthy individuals are asymptomatic, the appearance of multi-drug-resistant Mtb and HIV/AIDS has further increased the number of deaths caused by this pathogen. How has Mtb become such a successful pathogen? For one, we lack an effective vaccine to prevent infection. Many readers may point out that they have themselves been given a TB vaccine; known as “BCG” for bacille Calmette–Guérin, this is a laboratory-attenuated strain of a species related to Mtb called Mycobacterium bovis. While BCG does provide some protection for children against TB, BCG is essentially ineffective against pulmonary TB in adults. For this reason, it is not used in the USA and many other countries. Another major challenge to treating TB has been a lack of antimicrobials that can access Mtb bacilli in privileged sites known as granulomas, which are cell-fortified structures our immune system builds to contain microbial growth. In addition to the granuloma walls, Mtb has a highly complex cell envelope that protects it from many small molecules. I imagine that antimicrobial molecules have the challenging task of reaching an enemy shielded in armor, hiding deep inside a castle keep, and surrounded by a vast moat, and an army of orcs. On top of these therapeutic barriers, most antimicrobials work on metabolically active or growing bacteria. Mtb, however, grows very slowly, with a doubling time under optimal laboratory conditions of about 20 h—compared with 20 min for Salmonella. Moreover, Mtb is believed to enter a “persistent” or “latent” state in its natural host with limited cell divisions. This extremely slow growth makes treatment a long and tedious prospect: 6–12 months of antibiotic treatment are generally required, during which time one cannot drink alcohol due to the potential liver toxicity of the drugs. Believe it or not, there are people who would rather refuse TB treatment than give up alcohol for a few months. Additionally, the perception of “feeling cured” after a few weeks of TB therapy can also lead to a lapse in compliance. The consequence of failing to clear a partially treated infection is the emergence of drug resistance, which has created strains that are extensively resistant to most frontline TB drugs. When thinking about the difficulty of curing Mtb infections, I am reminded of the fierce and fearless honey badger, which came to fame through a viral YouTube video. The narrator points out how honey badgers “don't care” about battling vicious predators in order to get food: venomous snakes, stinging bees—you name it. I once saw a photo of a honey badger that looked more like a pin cushion, harpooned with numerous porcupine quills. This battle royale of the wilderness is a perfect analogy of Mtb versus the immune system: Like the honey badger, Mtb really don't care. Vaccines primarily work by coaxing our immune system to make antibodies that neutralize foreign invaders, most typically viruses, but also bacteria, some of which have evolved mechanisms to evade detection by antibodies or otherwise render them useless. In most cases, phagocytes then gobble up and kill invading bacteria. While phagocytes are critical in controlling Mtb infections, it is unclear which of their molecules or “effectors” act as executioners of Mtb. For example, nitric oxide and copper play roles in controlling Mtb in a mouse model, but it is unknown how these molecules exert their host-protective activity, and whether or not they play a similar role in humans. Furthermore, despite the production of these antibacterial effectors—the “porcupine quills”—Mtb often persists due to intrinsic resistance mechanisms. Thus, while our immune system may have the tools to keep Mtb under control, it falls short of eradicating it from our bodies and, in many cases, fails to prevent the progression of the disease. Perhaps a most worrying observation is that prior infection, which is generally considered the most effective path to immunity for many infectious diseases, does not consistently protect against reinfection with Mtb. The above facts have left the TB field scrambling to identify new ways to fight this disease. Much of this work requires that researchers understand both the fundamental processes of the bacterium and its host. Studies of human populations around the globe have revealed differences in susceptibility to infection, the genetic and immunological bases of which are being investigated (Bellamy et al, 2000; Berry et al, 2010; Möller et al, 2010). These studies have made researchers increasingly aware that how the immune system responds to Mtb may play a critical role in disease control. For example, understanding why some individuals or populations are more or less susceptible to TB may help in the development of better vaccines. Also, the more we understand what makes this pathogen so resilient to the immune system could facilitate the development of new antibacterial drugs or host-directed therapies. These questions can only be answered once we fully understand how the host combats Mtb infections, and how the bacteria counteract these host defenses. While it is a daunting endeavor, my hope is that the efforts of many laboratories around the world will get a better understanding of the host–Mtb interface and ultimately help to eradicate this disease for good. Acknowledgements Many thanks to Sarah Stanley and Russell Vance for our numerous discussions about TB and reading a draft version of this essay. Mtb research in the Darwin laboratory is supported by the National Institutes of Health. References Behr MA, Kaufmann E, Duffin J, Edelstein PH, Ramakrishnan L (2021) Latent tuberculosis: two centuries of confusion. Am J Respir Crit Care Med 204: 142–148CrossrefPubMedWeb of Science®Google Scholar Bellamy R, Beyers N, McAdam KPWJ, Ruwende C, Gie R, Samaai P, Bester D, Meyer M, Corrah T, Collin M et al (2000) Genetic susceptibility to tuberculosis in Africans: a genome-wide scan. Proc Natl Acad Sci USA 97: 8005–8009CrossrefCASPubMedWeb of Science®Google Scholar Berry MP, Graham CM, McNab FW, Xu Z, Bloch SA, Oni T, Wilkinson KA, Banchereau R, Skinner J, Wilkinson RJ et al (2010) An interferon-inducible neutrophil-driven blood transcriptional signature in human tuberculosis. Nature 466: 973–977CrossrefCASPubMedWeb of Science®Google Scholar Möller M, de Wit E, Hoal EG (2010) Past, present and future directions in human genetic susceptibility to tuberculosis. FEMS Immunol Med Microbiol 58: 3–26Wiley Online LibraryCASPubMedWeb of Science®Google Scholar Previous ArticleNext Article Read MoreAbout the coverClose modalView large imageVolume 22,Issue 9,06 September 2021This month's cover highlights the article A secreted factor NimrodB4 promotes the elimination of apoptotic corpses by phagocytes in Drosophila by Bianca Petrignani, Bruno Lemaitre and colleagues showing that NimrodB4 binds to apoptotic corpses to engage a phagosome maturation program dedicated to efferocytosis. The cover shows a scanning electron microscopy image of Drosophila hemocytes phagocyting apoptotic cells. In the absence of NimrodB4, Drosophila hemocytes are not able to phagocyte apoptotic cells correctly. (Image by Bianca Petrignani, BioImaging and Optics Platform, École Polytechnique Fédérale de Lausanne, Switzerland) Volume 22Issue 96 September 2021In this issue ReferencesRelatedDetailsLoading ...