If you ever find yourself on the St. George campus, you have most likely zoomed by the double helix sculpture created by Ted Bieler in 1971, standing prominently by the Medical Sciences Building. The Helix of Life pays homage to the discovery of the structure of DNA — a groundbreaking milestone for which researchers James Watson, Francis Crick and Maurice Wilkins received a Nobel Prize in 1962. However, James Watson’s recent passing — marred by the sexist and racist remarks he made throughout his life — reminds us that the story is not so straightforward. 

Watson’s fame eclipsed Rosalind Franklin, whose role went far beyond Photograph 51. Franklin was the chemist and X‑ray crystallographer who produced that famous diffraction image, an X‑ray pattern that revealed DNA’s helical structure. Her expertise in X‑ray crystallography, a technique that uses X‑rays to map the atomic arrangement of molecules, also drove major advances in understanding coal, graphite, and the structure of viruses. 

Ursula Franklin is commemorated at U of T with a street near the Physics Department, recognizing her appointment as University Professor in 1984. Franklin was the first woman to receive this title at the university, which came a full 142 years after the first professorships began at U of T in 1842.

The erasure of women in science also marked Canadian scientist and U of T alumnus Maud Menten’s career. Frederick Banting, who co-discovered insulin at U of T in 1921, became Canada’s first Nobel laureate. But while both scientists pursued research wherever they could and worked to advance their fields, Menten’s innovations earned her no prizes.  

These stories remind us that the history of science is not only about breakthroughs, but also about who is remembered for them. Similarly, the Helix of Life may symbolize discovery, but it also challenges us to ask: whose names are missing from the spiral, and how might we honour those whose brilliance was overlooked?

Remembering Maud Menten and her scientific circle

Menten’s most enduring scientific achievement came in 1913, when she and Leonor Michaelis, a German biochemist and physician, published a paper on an important equation in enzyme kinetics. 

The Michaelis–Menten equation, which describes the rate of enzymatic reactions, remains a cornerstone of biochemistry and is still taught in classrooms today. It even became central to my own second‑year Research Opportunity Program (ROP) project with Professor Al‑Amin Dhirani, comparing glucose oxidase kinetics against the Michaelis-Menten model. 

Yet, this breakthrough was only one part of her expansive career. Menten studied a wide range of medical problems, including streptococcal infections — illnesses caused by Streptococcus bacteria that can lead to conditions like strep throat and scarlet fever, along with immune changes during pregnancy, how adrenaline affects the blood, and how blood chemistry shifts in cancer and other diseases. 

She also explored the chemical makeup of muscle and how salts are distributed in nerve cells. As later scholars have noted, her research helped reveal how the body’s cells and chemicals work together in health and disease, forming key foundations for modern medical science.

Menten was not alone in breaking barriers at U of T. In 1903, her close friend and lab mate, Clara Benson, became one of the first two women to earn a PhD at a Canadian university. Benson was also the first woman to receive a Bachelor of Arts in chemistry at U of T in 1899, while Menten received her undergraduate and doctorate degrees in 1904 and 1911, respectively. 

Benson’s doctoral thesis was supervised by William Lash Miller, a Canadian chemist who is the namesake of U of T’s Lash Miller Building. The thesis was on reaction rates in complex solutions, which is the study of how quickly chemical reactions proceed when they occur in mixtures containing many interacting components. Together, Benson and Menten formed a remarkable pair of pioneers who supported each other in a field that often excluded them. 

But Menten was more than a brilliant biochemist; she was, by all accounts, a vibrant personality. She was remembered by her colleagues as a talented polyglot who painted, climbed mountains, and even drove cars at a time when few women did. 

Despite systemic barriers that kept her from faculty positions, she carved out a long career in pathology at the University of Pittsburgh after completing another PhD in biochemistry and an MD, leaving behind scientific breakthroughs and a reputation as a woman who lived life on her own terms. 

Despite the gradual toll of arthritis, Menten continued her work with determination. Born in 1879 in Port Lambton, Ontario, she returned to Canada later in life and carried out oncology research at the British Columbia Medical Research Institute until her passing in 1960.

Today, her name endures primarily through the Michaelis–Menten equation, but her broader story is rarely told. In Canada, she has been commemorated with a provincial plaque by the Ontario Heritage Trust, acknowledging her pioneering role in medicine and biochemistry, located near the entrance on Queen’s Park Crescent West. Her legacy also lives on through the Canadian Institutes of Health Research (CIHR) Maud Menten New Principal Investigator Prize, which supports early‑career scientists. 

These honours ensure her name is not forgotten, but they remain modest compared to the transformative impact of her work. Much like Franklin, her discoveries were often overshadowed or attributed to male collaborators.

Remembering Menten challenges us to examine how scientific history is written and whose achievements are preserved. By amplifying her story, alongside contemporaries like Benson and Franklin, we not only correct historical injustices but also inspire future generations to pursue science with independence and creativity. 

Franklin’s crystallography was central to uncovering DNA’s structure, yet her recognition lagged behind Watson and Crick. Benson, among the first women to earn a PhD in chemistry at U of T, remains little known outside the exam rooms of the building that bears her name. Menten, whose equation transformed biochemistry, was long dismissed as ‘Michaelis’s assistant.’

Reflecting on their stories forces us to confront how easily contributions can be minimized, forgotten, or absorbed into bolstering the reputations of those in power. And while research has changed, the echoes of these patterns remain. Women and researchers from marginalized communities still face disparities in funding, authorship, recognition, and leadership, with their work often held to higher standards and their successes scrutinized more closely. 

Remembering figures like Menten, Benson, and Franklin helps build a scientific culture where underrepresented voices are visible and valued in real time, not rediscovered decades later. It also challenges us to ensure that today’s scientists, regardless of gender, background, or identity, receive the credit they deserve as they shape the future of discovery.