The Revolución/Revolução

Several portraits of the 2024 Trailblazers class are placed around an upside-down map of Central and South America.

Credit: Shutterstock/C&EN

Credit: Carlos Osorio

Professor Alan Aspuru-Guzik is a professor of chemistry and computer science at the University of Toronto

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Read the Trailblazers package in Spanish and Portuguese.

Para subir al cielo

Para subir al cielo se necesita

Una escalera grande

Una escalera grande y otra chiquita.

Arriba y arriba

Arriba y arriba y arriba iré

Yo no soy marinero

Yo no soy marinero, soy capitán

Soy capitán, soy capitán.

To climb to heaven

To climb to heaven one needs a big staircase

A big staircase and a little one.

Up and up

Up and up I’ll go

I am not a sailor

I am not a sailor, I am a captain

I am a captain, I am a captain.

—Excerpt from “La Bamba,” popular Mexican son jarocho.

Latin America is a testament to resilience, a narrative of struggle and hope. It’s a story of shattered dreams that rise from the ashes and of rebuilding our region repeatedly. From the Indigenous nations that first inhabited the region, crafting civilizations that spanned its breadth, to the complex interplay with Europe and so many other regions of the world, the strength of Latin America’s history and culture is part of our DNA.

Scientists in Latin America struggle through and emerge from this unending line of political and often violent revolutions. Theirs is a history of ingenuity, and each generation brings a scientific revolution of its own.

In this Trailblazers issue, we want to give you a window into not just the science of 18 Latin American researchers but their stories—celebrating their cultures and natural warmth as well as their personal successes and impact. Together with the C&EN staff, I have carefully selected a sliver of the fantastic work our community has done from over 100 nominations. And to ensure that scientists and students who are hispanohablantes and lusófonos can read about the Trailblazers who share their origins, C&EN has translated these profiles into Spanish and Portuguese.

We tried to spotlight stories of the younger generation leading the next revolution in science, but before you read on, I would like to highlight the work of three individuals whose contributions deserve special attention. They have paved the way for advancements and are among the most critical contributors to global health:

Colombian scientist Nubia Muñoz discovered the human papillomavirus and contributed to developing the first vaccine against it. This work led to her recognition with a prestigious BBVA Foundation award.

Luis Miramontes, a Mexican chemist, carried out the first total synthesis of norethisterone, a first-generation contraceptive still used today. The discovery and use of birth control substances have helped empower individuals with their reproductive rights across the globe.

Hailing from the Southern Hemisphere, Argentine Luis Leloir was awarded the Nobel Prize for elucidating the biochemical pathways for synthesizing carbohydrates. This fundamental discovery opened up many therapeutic opportunities, such as biotechnology for the synthesis of glycopeptides.

The shakiness of Latin American democracies has hindered this scientific progress as the world faces a massive, looming ecological crisis that threatens the livelihoods of millions. This is the enduring fight of the Latin American people, who constantly battle to assert their civil rights and secure critical natural resources.

This battle has surely slowed our region’s science, but science also gives us the power to fight back.

In Chile, the mining industry is a pillar of the national economy—most famously, copper mines, but increasingly, lithium operations. Privatizing and nationalizing these mines played a crucial role in the 1973 US-backed coup d’état against President Salvador Allende and the dictatorship that followed.

Today, the mines remain, and Chilean scientists study their chemical legacy and present-day impact. These researchers trace where runoff goes, figure out how metal-laden wastewater affects the public, and use those data to inform regulators and hopefully make that industry less harmful.

As another example, Central America’s coffee crops are quickly declining because of increasing temperatures and droughts brought on by the worsening climate crisis. This decline sparks migration patterns that force farmers to abandon their crops and homes, resulting in poor living conditions in overcrowded cities. Revolutions triggered by that displacement could be on the horizon.

Simultaneously, scientists are seeing this problem and trying to make crops like cacao and coffee more resilient. They’re developing new varieties that grow in warmer, drier conditions and have the potential to save those industries.

The ecological devastation of the Amazon, often accelerated by political regimes’ economic interests, has global ripple effects. Alongside political and policy solutions to this problem, science emerges as a critical enabler of technologies that could help solve these problems locally.

One crisis on my mind now is water. Because of mismanagement of water resources, and lousy and underfunded maintenance of the water supply, Mexico City, where I grew up, expects a “day zero”—when no water will be available—as soon as this year.

It makes me think back to the bloody revolt that happened in Cochabamba, Bolivia, in 2000, when the people had to fight against an international conglomerate’s privatization of their water supply. I only hope the revolution that saves Mexico City will be purely scientific rather than violent.

But that innovation requires a swift change of direction. Industrial and government support for science has been lackluster for all countries in Latin America. This has meant low salaries for scientists and relatively limited access to modern equipment, travel funds, and other means necessary to conduct research. Modest funding and cumbersome, bureaucratic mechanisms to dispense that money haven’t helped either.

Meanwhile, global competition for scientific talent is intense. Several factors have attracted substantial numbers of Latin American scientists to power the technological engines of Canada and the US. This migration can be seen either as a direct brain drain from the region or, if the scientists abroad remain connected to their home, as an opportunity to enrich the science of their countries of origin.

I am an example of that scientific exodus, having done research in Mexico, the US, and now Canada. Over the years, I have remained connected to Mexico and have had several graduate students and postdoctoral scholars from there come to my lab and move on to academia and industry globally. For example, Andrés Aguilar Granda and Martha Flores Leonar are professors at the National Autonomous University of Mexico. I have also helped Mexican scientists and officials devise science policy, craft and review research proposals, and develop scientific exchange programs.

To discuss Latin American scientists, we must also discuss those of Latin American origin who were born outside the region—for example, in the US and Canada. These groups’ relative economic and social disadvantages have led to lower representation in academia and the broader tech economy. To solve this problem at its root, academic, policy, and business leaders need to take many actions. For example, significantly increased social and economic support for Latin American communities at a local level, as well as further scholarships and educational programs, is necessary to reach demographic parity in these northern countries.

If humanity is to take on these problems, we’ll need US- and Canada-based researchers with Latin American roots and their counterparts in Latin America to form networks from Tierra del Fuego to Nunavut. Our Bolivarian scientific alliance should demand proper funding and support from our ailing governments. These networks will help train, mentor, and champion new generations of scientists who will continue to build the foundation for a competitive revolutionary force in the Americas.

Finally, I want to end this essay on a musical note. Jorge Drexler, an Uruguayan musician, actor, and doctor, gave a masterful TED Talk in 2017 in which he delves into the topic of the décima. This poetic and musical stanza, whose variations were created in Spain, is rooted in different continents via Europe, Africa, and Latin America. Many musical and poetic forms we call our own, such as the tango in Argentina, repente in Brazil, bachata in the Dominican Republic, and son jarocho in Mexico, share their complex origins in the décima.

Like the décima, a dialogue between Latin America’s cultures and an ode to our mixed origins, creative force is infused into Latin American science. Our science is vibrant, eclectic, and essential. As “La Bamba,” sung in a décima, says, we, the Latin American scientists, are not sailors. We are captains. ¡Viva nuestra ciencia! Viva a nossa ciencia!.

Chemical & Engineering News

ISSN 0009-2347