Looking for Madam Tetrachromat
http://www.cs.utk.edu/~evers/documents/tetraChromat.txt
By Glenn Zorpette
magazine
November 1, 2000
"Oh, everyone knows my color vision is
different," chuckles Mrs. M, a
57-year-old English social worker. "People will
think things match, but I can
see they don't." What you wouldn't give to see
the world through her deep
blue-gray eyes, if only for five minutes.
Preliminary evidence gathered at Cambridge University
in 1993 suggests that this
woman is a tetrachromat, perhaps the most remarkable
human mutant ever
identified. Most of us have color vision based on
three channels; a tetrachromat
has four.
The theoretical possibility of this secret sorority --
genetics dictates that
tetrachromats would all be female -- has intrigued
scientists since it was
broached in 1948. Now two scientists, working
separately, plan to search
systematically for tetrachromats to determine once and
for all whether they
exist and whether they see more colors than the rest
of us do. The scientists
are building on a raft of recent findings about the
biology of color vision.
The breakthroughs come just in time. "Computers,
color monitors, and the World
Wide Web have made having color blindness a much
bigger deal than it ever was
before," says Jay Neitz, a molecular biologist
who studies color vision at the
Medical College of Wisconsin in Milwaukee. Color-blind
individuals, he explains,
often lose their way while navigating the Web's
thicket of color cues and codes.
"Color-blind people complain miserably about the
Web because they can't get the
color code," Dr. Neitz says. (Just try surfing on
a monochrome monitor.)
Most people are trichromats, with retinas having three
kinds of color sensors,
called cone photopigments -- those for red, green, and
blue. The 8 percent of
men who are color-blind typically have the cone
photopigment for blue but are
either missing one of the other colors, or the men
have them, in effect, for two
very slightly different reds or greens. A tetrachromat
would have a fourth cone
photopigment, for a color between red and green.
Besides the philosophical interest in learning
something new about perception,
the brain, and the evolution of our species, finding a
tetrachromat would also
offer a practical reward. It would prove that the
human nervous system can adapt
to new capabilities. Flexibility matters greatly in a
number of scenarios
envisaged for gene therapy. For example, if someone
with four kinds of color
photopigments cannot see more colors than others, it
would imply that the human
nervous system cannot easily take advantage of genetic
interventions.
For years now, scientists have known that some
fraction of women have four
different cone photopigments in their retinas. The
question still remains,
however, whether any of these females have the neural
circuitry that enables
them to enjoy a different -- surely richer -- visual
experience than the common
run of humanity sees. "If we could identify these
tetrachromats, it would speak
directly to the ability of the brain to organize
itself to take advantage of
novel stimuli," says Dr. Neitz. "It would
make us a lot more optimistic about
doing a gene therapy for color blindness."
There have been very few attempts to find Madam
Tetrachromat. The one that
turned up Mrs. M in England, in 1993, was led by
Gabriele Jordan, then at
Cambridge University and now at the University of
Newcastle. She tested the
color perception of 14 women who each had at least one
son with a specific type
of color blindness. She looked at those women because
genetics implies that the
mothers of color-blind boys may have genetic
peculiarities of their own. Among
that somewhat peculiar group of women, one could
expect to find the odd
tetrachromat.
It's almost as if the supersense these women enjoy
comes at the expense of the
men in their families. "I'm just sorry I've
robbed my son of one of his color
waves," Mrs. M says.
Dr. Jordan reports that of the fourteen test subjects
in her study, two showed
"exactly" the behavior that would be
expected of tetrachromats. "It was very
strong evidence for tetrachromacy," she adds. The
apparent tetrachromats were
Mrs. M, who was identified in the study as cDA1, and
another candidate, cDA7.
Dr. Jordan set up an experiment in which subjects
tried to determine whether a
pair of colored lights matched. They used joysticks to
blend two different
wavelengths as they pleased. The resulting hues lay
outside the spectrum of the
blue photoreceptor, rendering it nearly useless, so
that normal trichromats
would have the use of only their red and green
photoreceptors. Having hit upon a
color, the subjects would then try to reproduce it by
mixing two other
wavelengths. Because the trichromats had the use of
only two receptors, they
found a whole slew of mixes that produced a matching
color.
However, any tetrachromat should have been able to use
three receptors in this
color space, and therefore make a single, precise
match. In the experiment, cDA1
and cDA7 performed pretty much as a tetrachromat would
be expected to.
Nevertheless, Dr. Jordan declines to say that she has
finally found a
tetrachromat, partly because her testing is still a
work in progress. The vast
majority of us have no idea what tetrachromacy would
be like. Anyone who had the
supersense wouldn't know she did, let alone be able to
describe it. After all,
it is an exercise in futility for trichromats to try
to explain their visual
experience to color-blind people.
Dr. Neitz and Dr. Jordan each plan a more definitive
search for tetrachromats.
Dr. Neitz plans to take advantage of the fuller
understanding of the underlying
genetics of color vision. His will be the first
experiment that will use genetic
techniques to identify women with four different color
photopigments.
What will he be looking for? Let's start with the
basics. The genes for the red
and green photopigments are adjacent to each other on
the X chromosome;
strangely, blue is way off by itself on another
chromosome. Women, of course,
have two X chromosomes and therefore two sets of red
and green photopigment
genes. Men have only one X, so they have just one shot
at getting the red and
green photopigment genes right.
Unfortunately for men, it turns out that those genes
are prone to a kind of
mutation that occurs when eggs are formed in a female
embryo. When the eggs are
created, the X chromosomes from the maternal
grandmother and grandfather mix
with each other in random places to make the egg's
brand-new X chromosome.
Because the genes for the red and green photopigments
are right next to each
other, those genes sometimes mix. That's perfectly
normal. But every once in a
while, the mixing occurs in a lopsided way, and the
result, 30 years later,
could very well be a man who has to check with his
wife every time he dresses.
A lopsided mix can have three outcomes: (1) the egg in
the embryo has an X
chromosome that's missing either a red or a green
photopigment gene, (2) the X
chromosome has two slightly different red photopigment
genes, or (3) the X
chromosome has two slightly different green
photopigment genes. In any of these
cases, if that egg gets fertilized and becomes a male,
the man will get that X
chromosome and be color-blind.
Here it gets interesting. Suppose a woman inherits one
X chromosome with two
slightly different green photopigment genes. And let's
say her other X
chromosome has the normal complement of red and green
photopigment genes.
Because of a well-known biological phenomenon called X
inactivation -- which
causes some cells to rely on one X chromosome and
others to rely on the other --
that woman's retinas would have four different types
of photopigments: blue,
red, green, and the slightly shifted green. (It would
also be possible, through
a different genetic sequence, to produce blue, green,
red, and a shifted red.) X
inactivation is only possible in women, so there has
never been, and probably
never will be, a male tetrachromat.
True tetrachromacy would require a few other
characteristics in addition to
retinas with four different photopigment receptors.
For instance, there would
have to be four neural channels to convey to the brain
the sensory inputs from
the four receptors, and the brain's visual cortex
would have to be able to
handle this four-channel system. If a woman were born
with four types of
photopigments, would her brain wire itself to take
advantage of them? No one
knows for sure, but some experts strongly suspect it
would. "Yes, definitely,"
says Jeremy Nathans, a pioneer in color-vision
research at Johns Hopkins
University School of Medicine. One reason to think so
is the brain's great
plasticity in other respects. People with special
skills -- musicians,
bilinguals, deaf people who learn sign language --
often show characteristic
brain patterns.
Dr. Nathans also believes, however, that for
full-blown tetrachromacy, the
fourth photopigment must not have a peak in
sensitivity that is too close to the
peaks of either the red or the green photopigments.
That's the rub, as far as
he's concerned -- he suspects that most female
tetrachromats would have only
mildly superior color vision, because the genetics
indicates that the fourth
photopigment would almost always be very close to
either the red or the green.
Every now and then, however, an oddball photopigment
might appear, well
separated from both red and green. "The genetics
do not rule it out," Dr.
Nathans explains. "It would be a rare event. But
who's to say it hasn't
happened? There are a lot of people out there."
That idea finds support in the recent discoveries
about the genetics of color
vision, many made by Dr. Neitz's group. Those findings
have shown that the
genetics underlying color vision are surprisingly
variable, even within the
narrow range regarded as normal. "The variety in
photopigment genes in people
with normal color vision is enormous," Dr. Neitz
reports. "It's enormous."
Would there be any practical advantages to
tetrachromacy? Dr. Jordan notes that
a mother could more easily spot when her children were
pale or flushed, and
therefore ill. Mrs. M reports that she has always been
able to match even subtle
colors from memory -- buying a bag, for example, to
match shoes she hasn't laid
eyes on for months. And computers, color monitors, and
the Internet raise a
whole raft of possibilities. Just as someone with
normal three-color vision
surfs rings around a dichromat on the Internet, a
tetrachromat, looking at a
special computer screen based on four primary colors
rather than the standard
three, could theoretically dump data into her head
faster than the rest of us.
If Dr. Neitz or Dr. Jordan finally finds Madam
Tetrachromat, the discovery will
confirm that the human nervous system can handle
four-channel color vision. And
that confirmation would raise the possibility that,
within a couple of decades,
gene therapy will make tetrachromacy just another
option that wealthy parents
could check off on the list when they are designing
their daughters.
It won't be possible with male children -- not for
quite some time, anyway. So
as long as we're on this flight of fancy, let's take
one more short hop: a few
decades from now, men and women will still be seeing
the world differently. But
the expression might not be merely figurative any
more.
ADDITIONAL RESOURCES
Free book chapter on color vision.
http://object.cup.org/Chapters/0521590531WSN01.pdf
Q & A on the biology of human color vision.
http://www.cis.rit.edu/mcsl/faq/faq1.shtml
Web site for Jay Neitz's laboratory on color vision at
the Medical College of
Wisconsin. Includes images showing how the color blind
would see certain scenes
and objects.
http://www.mcw.edu/cellbio/colorvision/
Explanation of the genetics behind color-vision
deficiencies.
http://campus.arbor.edu:8880/~michaelb/chroab2.htm
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