Tomado de Small Things Considered
At our very core, we are all hoarders
By now, many of us are aware that a
considerable portion (45% or more) of the human genome consists of
transposable elements. These are mobile genetic sequences, such as Alu
repeats and long and short interspersed nuclear elements (LINEs and SINEs).
A whopping 18% of this so-called "dark matter of the genome" is
retroviral sequences left over from ancient infections of germ line
cells. This means that, in total, ~8% of the human genome is retroviral,
compared to only ~1.5% that codes for human genes — a situation that
led my Ph.D. advisor to claim that there are more retroviruses in us
than there is us in us! Due to mutations, the viruses no longer function as viruses, but are a collection of broken parts.
Considering that the human body carries out
~10,000 billion cell divisions in a lifetime, the replication and
maintenance of this viral junk heap requires a considerable amount of
energy and resources. So why do we keep it around? Probably for the very
reason that nearly every household has a junk drawer (Figure 1): weak purifying selection
(read, lack of motivation to clean up), combined with the hunch that
“this stuff might come in handy someday.” In fact, it appears that an
important evolutionary innovation — the placenta — has depended on parts
pulled from the “genomic junk drawer.”
The birth of the placenta
The placenta evolved in the ancestors of
mammals ~150 million years ago, and is a feature of the vast majority of
modern mammals, including ourselves. The advantages conferred by this
organ are obvious — it protects the developing embryo inside the mother,
shields it from the elements, and ensures a steady supply of nutrients,
moisture, and the appropriate temperature for growth and comfortable
napping. How did this lucky innovation come about?
Some hints lie in the details of placental
development, which begins five days after fertilization with the
formation of a clump of cells called the blastocyst (Figure 2). The
blastocyst consists of an inner cell mass that will become the embryo,
and an outer layer of cells called trophoblasts, from which the placenta arises. The trophoblasts invade the uterine wall and proliferate, in a tumor-like manner, differentiating into a specialized cell type, the cytotrophoblasts. The cytotrophoblasts then fuse together into a layer of multinucleated cells, the syncytiotrophoblasts, creating a sac firmly attached to the uterine wall. This layer of fused cells creates a specialized barrier between mother and fetus, through which the fetus can acquire nutrients
and growth hormones while ridding itself of waste products. The fetus
will express both maternal and paternal proteins. While the former will
be tolerated by the mother’s immune system, the latter will be
recognized as invasive. It is the placenta that protects the fetus from attack by the mother’s immune system.
The italicized portions above have suggested an uncomfortable comparison of pregnancy to invasion by a parasite,
with the mother’s physiology being reworked to serve the needs of the
fetus. Whether you like the analogy or not, the placenta's position at
the materno-fetal interface indeed likens it to an interface between a
pathogen and its host. This situation requires an elevated level of
adaptability — a challenge for complex DNA organisms like us, with our
stodgy mutation rates, but typical of faster-replicating entities such
as, say, the viruses.
If it walks like a retrovirus...
The layer of fused cells that forms the
membrane between mother and fetus is the key histological feature of the
placenta. Cell-cell fusion is not a common feature of mammalian cells,
but it is the basis of how retroviruses and other enveloped viruses
enter host cells during an infection. Here’s the story: the retroviral
membrane is studded with proteins designated “Env” for envelope that are
made up of two parts. part SU) for surface) is responsible for binding to a specific receptor on the host cell, while the other part (TM, for transmembrane)
fuses the cell and virus membranes together, so that the virus can
enter the cell. By the same mechanism, a cell expressing Env can fuse
with another cell expressing the appropriate receptor protein. Due to
this ability, the retroviral Env protein is said to be "fusogenic."
By the time the placenta evolved there were
already many retroviruses around that had integrated into the genomes
of vertebrate species (so-called "endogenous retroviruses"
or "ERVs"). Once they've inserted into the genome, ERVs evolve
neutrally and in time become inactivated by the accumulation of
mutations and by mechanisms that the host uses to repress their
expression. Env coding regions, however, are sometimes conserved after
integration. The thinking is that the Env proteins can block receptors
from being used by any retroviruses that use the same receptor.
Therefore, if a recently integrated retrovirus is defective for
replication but can still express Env, it can confer protection on the
host from infection with similar retroviruses. In other words, Env
coding regions, like stray rubber bands in a junk drawer, are always in
supply.
Clues that mammals actually do avail
themselves of these spare parts emerged in the 1970’s: Electron
micrographs of placental tissue from humans and a variety of other
animals showed retrovirus-like particles budding from placental cells,
particularly within the syncytiotrophoblast layer — the layer consisting
of fused cells (Figure 2). The presence of these particles in healthy
tissues of many placental mammals prompted a few brave researchers to
entertain the idea that ERVs actually play an essential role in placental development.
The rather astounding implication was that an accidental infection of a
mammalian ancestor by a retrovirus was responsible for the evolution of
a novel mechanism of reproduction, one that launched the entire lineage
of placental mammals no less.
Within a few years, a couple of prospects for the putative placental retrovirus were found among the HERV-W and HERV-FRD families of human ERVs (HERV stands for human
ERV). Comparative genomics reveals that HERV-W infected the germ line
of an ancestor of the great apes (including humans) over 25 million
years ago (mya). HERV-FRD is even older, having first infected the
ancestors of all monkeys except prosimians
some 40 mya. Although during their long tenure in the genome both
retroviruses have accumulated mutations that render them incapable of
producing infectious virions, the reading frame across the envelope
genes (env) are still intact. Additionally, they fulfill the
three requirements for a gene to be involved in placental formation: 1)
placenta-specific expression, 2) fusogenicity, and 3) sequence
conservation across multiple species, which suggests an essential role
in survival. In situ studies reveal that HERV-W is expressed in
many placental cell types, whereas HERV-FRD expression is limited to a
particular type of cytotrophoblasts. In experiments on primary cultures
of cytotrophoblasts, inhibiting either Env—but especially that of
HERV-FRD—reduces the fusion efficiency and the production of the
pregnancy-hormone human chorionic gonadotropin.
It sure sounds like both HERV-W and HERV-FRD contribute to placental
development in humans. HERV-W was named syncytin-1 and HERV-FRD,
syncytin-2 for their ability to fuse cells and form syncytia.
Once they knew what to look for,
researchers made fast work of screening the mouse genome for ERVs with
open reading frames across the env gene. They found two sequences, now known as syncytin-A and –B (the nomenclature changes from 1 and 2 in humans to A and B in mice), which met the three criteria for bona fide
syncytinhood, mentioned above. Furthermore, when researchers prevented
expression of syncytin-A in mice, unfused cells accumulated, which
disrupted the syncytiotrophoblast layer and caused the embryos to die at
mid-gestation. This finding constituted proof that a gene of retroviral
origin is essential for survival in mice. Prevention of syncytin-B
expression resulted in impaired formation of one of the two placental
layers found in mice, confirming that it, too, had a role in
placentation.
Remarkably, mouse syncytin-A and -B differ
from primate syncytin-1 and -2 in key respects — they are not in
analogous locations on the chromosomes and are from distinct retrovirus
families. In other words, they represent separate, independent gene
capture events (as if the mouse and primate lineages each pulled
different rubber bands from the junk drawer and used them for the same
purpose). An amazing pattern of convergent evolution has emerged as more
examples of independently acquired syncytins have surfaced in various
mammalian orders: syncytin-Car1 is found in carnivores; syncytin-Ory1 in lagomorphs (hares, rabbits, and pikas); syncytin-Rum1 in cows and various other ruminants (Figure 4a); and most recently, syncytin-Mar1 in squirrels.
Rummaging through the genomic junk drawer
Because ERVs can cause disease in a number
of ways, the host generally represses their transcription. Repression is
particularly strict in embryonic stem cells, where unchecked ERV
activity could interfere with the complex and delicately timed pathways
required during development. In stark contrast, repression is relaxed in
the progenitors of placental cells, and transcripts from multiple ERV
families are produced. Why would that be? The placenta is a transient
organ, fated to be eaten or plunked into a specimen pan on the way to
the trash. At the same time, the placenta's position at the
materno-fetal interface requires an elevated level of adaptability. The
derepression of ERVs might be seen as a means of harnessing a little b
of the adaptive potential of faster-mutating entities in a context where
costs to the host are not too high, due to the transient nature of the
placenta.
The marked diversity of placental
structures among mammalian species (Figure 4b) may be an outcome of this
ERV-induced plasticity, as hypothesized by members of the Heidmann lab,
who are leading the charge in identifying and characterizing syncytins.
Since the various syncytins originated from different retroviruses,
they exhibit differences in expression levels, fusogenicity, and
receptor usage. Such differences likely impact placental structure. Also
reflecting this plasticity is evidence within some species that older
syncytin genes are phased out when a new env sequence is
captured (Figure 4a, Rodentia and Haplorrhini orders). This ongoing
replacement model would explain the discrepancy between the ages of the
known syncytins (captured between 12 and 60 mya) and the emergence of a
primitive placenta some 150 mya.
All of this suggests the oh-so-elegant junk
drawer model: Derepressing ERV expression in placental progenitor cells
can be likened to opening the junk drawer and rummaging around for
anything that might be of use. Since ERVs are not random bits of DNA but
complex sequences that code for various functional domains such as
binding sites, proteases, promoters, and fusion domains, the likelihood
of pulling something useful out of the ERV junk drawer is
rather high, even if the item wasn't originally designed for the
particular task. It is amazing to think that an evolutionary innovation
of such consequence — the placenta — was essentially pulled from the
genomic junk drawer!