A Wonderful Guidance: Starting from a Single Question

Having taught and researched cancer biomedicine for over forty years, I have come to increasingly appreciate that truly important science rarely begins with grand slogans, but instead starts with a simple, honest, and yet difficult-to-answer question: What exactly is cancer? How do we understand it? And how can we help patients see hope amid fear?

Over forty years ago, I was a first-year doctoral student. One day, department chair Professor Harris Busch wrote on the blackboard during a research seminar the four hallmarks of cancer: invasiveness, metastasis, heterogeneity, and drug resistance. At the time I was majoring in chemistry, with limited knowledge of basic and clinical medicine, but I knew that behind these few terms lay very deep questions. To catch up in this field, I began studying biochemistry, physiology, and pharmacology alongside medical students. Those courses were demanding, but they gradually opened my understanding of life, disease, and treatment.

I later came to realize that the four hallmarks Professor Busch wrote down that day were not merely classroom knowledge, but served as a signpost that guided my thinking about the nature of cancer for decades to come. Cancer is not simply the error of a single gene, nor merely a tumor growing in one organ; it is more like the result of cells losing their normal order after long-term systemic imbalance in the body. Environment, heredity, immunity, metabolism, and cellular signaling are all interwoven, forming a complex disease network.

Looking back on this path, I see many arrangements that seemed coincidental at the time. Meeting rigorous teachers, entering the field of cancer research, studying the nucleolar protein NPM1/B23, and later turning toward gene co-expression and systems biology—these experiences initially seemed scattered, but gradually came together to form a coherent picture.

I believe that scientific research is ultimately not meant to prove human ability, but to respond to human need. Cancer patients need more than data and medication; they also need to be understood, accompanied, and able to hold onto hope amid limitation and uncertainty. If there is one deepest realization from these forty-plus years, it is this: human knowledge is limited, but God's guidance is wonderful.