When we think about science, we often imagine a universal language of knowledge in the form of a shared code of numbers, graphs, and precise words that transcend borders. But what happens when the language of science is not the language of the scientist? This is the challenge explored in a recent study by a group of publication professionals from the pharmaceutical and medical communications industries across the Asia Pacific region. The study looked at how researchers in this region navigate the world of English-language scientific publishing. Their findings remind us that words matter, and the language we use can either invite voices into global conversations and knowledge exchange, or keep them out.

In the 20th century, antibiotics transformed medicine. Infections that once killed millions could be cured with a pill or injection. Surgeries became safer, cancer treatments more effective, and advanced medical interventions, such as organ transplants, became possible, all because doctors could rely on these drugs to control infections. Unfortunately, today, that foundation is crumbling. Bacteria are evolving faster than medicine can keep up. Common antibiotics are failing, and infections that were once easily treatable are becoming deadly again. In 2019 alone, antimicrobial resistance was linked to nearly five million deaths worldwide, making it deadlier than HIV or malaria. The economic cost is equally staggering: the World Bank warns of trillions lost in global productivity and millions pushed into poverty if nothing changes. This crisis, caused by antimicrobial resistance, has been described as a “silent pandemic.” Unlike a sudden outbreak, it spreads quietly, making routine medical care slightly more dangerous each year. Yet amid this grim outlook, new research is opening a window of hope. At the forefront of new innovations in this area are Dr. Kai Hilpert of City St George’s, University of London, and his colleagues, who are pioneering an approach that combines biology, chemistry, and artificial intelligence to reinvent how we discover infection-fighting medicines. Their work has been recognised with a prestigious award from the UK’s Biotechnology and Biological Sciences Research Council, BBSRC.

Most of us never give much thought to the small artery that runs along the inside of our wrist, the radial artery. You can feel it easily if you press your fingers just below your thumb. Yet in modern medicine, this little vessel has become one of the most important gateways to the heart. Imagine a doctor threading a tiny tube, called a catheter, through the radial artery to reach your heart. This technique, called transradial access, has transformed modern cardiology. By entering through the radial artery, doctors can perform life-saving cardiac procedures with fewer complications, faster recovery, and even lower costs than older methods that went through the leg. Many people can even walk out of the hospital on the same day. Over the past two decades, doctors have increasingly chosen the radial artery as their entry point for procedures like angiography (imaging of the heart’s blood vessels) and angioplasty (opening blocked arteries). But there’s a catch: sometimes the artery rebels. It tightens suddenly, almost like a muscle cramp, gripping the medical instruments and making the doctor’s job harder. This is known as radial artery spasm (or RAS for short). In rare cases, the spasm is so severe that it traps the catheter or damages the artery wall.

Imagine a future where treating cancer doesn’t just depend on high-tech machines or potent drugs, but also on something as simple, and as complex, as the bacteria living in your gut. This future might be closer than we think, thanks to groundbreaking research led by Professor Andrea Facciabene at the University of Pennsylvania. In a randomized pilot study recently published in the Journal for ImmunoTherapy of Cancer, Prof. Facciabene and an international team of researchers explored a curious and compelling idea: could altering the gut microbiome enhance the effectiveness of radiation therapy in patients with inoperable early-stage lung cancer? The answer, at least in this early stage, appears to be yes.

Interview with Professor Mary Rezk-Hanna

If you stroll into a McDonald’s fast-food restaurant in Paris, Tokyo, or New York, you’ll notice that the Big Mac tastes the same, the menu looks familiar, and the process is quick and efficient. You order your food, wait a short while, and you get exactly what you expect. In the 1990s, American sociologist George Ritzer gave a name to this phenomenon: McDonaldization. He identified four principles behind the model’s success. The first is Efficiency, in terms of getting things done in the fastest, least expensive way possible. Second comes Calculability, which involves valuing numerical metrics, such as how many burgers sold and how fast they were served, over subjective qualities such as taste or ambiance. The third factor is Predictability, which involves making sure the experience is the same way everywhere. The final aspect is Control, where the corporation uses refined rules, technology, and systems to achieve the preceding three principles. While these ideas may work for burgers and fries, can they work if applied to something very different, such as healthcare? In a thought-provoking review, Professor Dr. Frederik Wenz of the University of Freiburg explores how these fast-food-inspired principles are transforming hospitals, clinics, and even the role of patients themselves. This phenomenon doesn’t just involve faster patient registrations or standardized treatments. It’s about a fundamental shift in how we think about healing, and how much responsibility patients are willing (or able) to take on themselves.

Research from Dr. Adam W. Carrico at the Florida International University, and his colleagues, explores innovative approaches to address HIV prevention and treatment challenges among sexual minority men who use stimulants. Three interconnected studies examine how behavioral interventions can reduce HIV viral load, alter gene expression in immune cells, and increase the use of preventive medication in this high-priority population. Collectively, these randomized controlled trials provide compelling evidence of the potential of behavioral interventions to improve health behaviors and outcomes.

When we reach into a medicine cabinet we aim to find something to relieve our symptoms and treat our ailments. This could be a painkiller for a headache, an antibiotic for an infection, or insulin for diabetes. Typically, we assume that what’s inside that blister pack, bottle or vial is real, safe, and effective. But what if it’s not, and not only may it be ineffective at relieving our symptoms, but it could even cause harm? That unsettling question is at the heart of a groundbreaking new study from the University of Plymouth. Led by Dr Maysa Falah and Dr Michael Dillon, the research team explored an underreported problem that quietly afflicts health systems worldwide: substandard and falsified medicines, or SF medicines for short. Through their research in Jordan, they offer a glimpse into how widespread and misunderstood the issue truly is, not just among the public, but also in pharmacies and clinics, revealing both the prevalence of poor-quality medicines and the deep uncertainty around what we trust to put in our bodies.

When a baby is born, the bones of the skull are meant to behave like the slats of a wooden barrel, flexible enough to slide into the correct orientation as the brain beneath them doubles in size during the first year of life. However, in about seven of every 100,000 births one of those seams between the bones of the skull (called a suture) closes too early along a single side of the forehead, a condition called unicoronal synostosis (or UCS). Instead of rounding out evenly, the skull twists: one brow pulls backward, the opposite brow juts forward, the eye sockets tilt, and the nose shifts off‑centre. Beyond cosmetic considerations such as the visible asymmetry, these children can also face raised brain pressure, vision problems and slower development.

When the COVID-19 pandemic arrived as an unexpected and unwelcome presence in our lives, it didn’t just disrupt our daily routines, it drastically changed how we learn, teach, and connect. For many healthcare professionals, including those in dentistry, this meant abandoning lecture halls and clinical classrooms for an unfamiliar and potentially daunting virtual teaching landscape. After all, no-one knew if this mandatory experiment in online teaching would work out. Yet from this unprecedented upheaval emerged an extraordinary opportunity to rethink how education is delivered globally, one that Dr. Shasha Cui of the Eastman Institute for Oral Health at the University of Rochester School of Medicine and Dentistry, and her colleagues, seized with insight, innovation, and a keen eye toward the future.