Research Area: Biochemistry, Biophysics, and Structural Biology

Capsid of HIV-1 behaves like cell’s cargo receptor to enter the nucleus

Biologists demonstrate that HIV-1 capsid acts like a Trojan horse to pass viral cargo across the nuclear pore.

Lillian Eden | Department of Biology
January 24, 2024

Retroviruses cannot replicate on their own — they must insert their genetic code into the DNA of a host and exploit the host cell’s resources to make more copies of themselves, furthering infection. Some retroviruses only infect cells as they divide, when the nuclear envelope that protects the host’s genetic material breaks down, making it easily accessible. HIV-1 is a type of retrovirus, called a lentivirus, that can infect non-dividing cells.

HIV-1 delivers its genome into the nucleus by packaging it into a large, cone-shaped structure called a capsid — but the exact mechanism has remained elusive for decades. Travel through the nuclear envelope occurs through, and is regulated by, nuclear pores, doughnut-shaped protein assemblies. Human cells have about 2,000 nuclear pores perforating the nuclear envelope. Some earlier evidence suggested that the capsid remains intact during its delivery into the nucleus — but this created a dimensional conundrum. The cone-shaped HIV-1 capsid is about 120 nanometers long and 60 nm wide — too large, researchers thought, to fit through the opening of the nuclear pore, measured at only 43 nm wide.

Members of the Schwartz Lab at MIT, in the Department of Biology, became interested in this question when a postdoc in the lab used cryo-electron tomography, slicing up sections of frozen cells to examine structures, to show that nuclear pores in the nuclear envelope are larger than 43nm. They deflate and shrink, it turns out, when removed from their native conditions. In native conditions, the nuclear pore complex is about 60nm wide — wide enough to accommodate the HIV-1 capsid.

Knowing that it could fit, a question remained: How can the capsid navigate the dense mesh of spaghetti-like proteins that act like a sieve in the nuclear pore channel? That spaghetti-like mesh allows small cargo to diffuse through, but prevents large cargo from entering unless it is escorted by proteins called nuclear transport receptors.

In an open-access paper published today in Nature, researchers present evidence that the HIV-1 capsid mimics the cell’s transport receptors to traverse the nuclear pore.

To support that conclusion, the researchers showed three things in vitro: that an HIV-1 capsid can deliver cargo through a nuclear pore analog; that the capsid can interact with the sieve of proteins in the nuclear pore channel; and that the capsid targets the nuclear pore in the absence of native transport proteins.

Nuclear transport receptors escort large cargo through the nuclear pore by “batting away” the spaghetti-like mesh of proteins inside the channel — like someone holding your hand and guiding you across a crowded dance floor. The HIV-1 capsid interacts with the spaghetti-like proteins, but its purpose is more like a Trojan horse — the capsid encapsulates the viral cargo, protecting it from detection in the cytoplasm and as it enters the nuclear pore complex.

“What’s really amazing about cells is that they are incredibly complex. What’s really difficult about studying cells is that they are incredibly complex,” jokes co-first author Erika Weiskopf, a graduate student in the Schwartz lab. “Biochemists are constantly trying to find ways to study their system in a simplified context, but still give it a flavor of cell biology.”

To do that, the Schwartz lab collaborated with Dirk Görlich, the director of cellular logistics at the Max Planck Institute for Multidisciplinary Sciences. Görlich is a co-senior author on the paper with MIT’s Boris Magasanik Professor of Biology Thomas Schwartz. Görlich’s lab has produced concentrated droplets of the spaghetti-like proteins found inside the nuclear pore, and those droplets allow and exclude cargo the same way a nuclear pore will. In experiments, fluorescently-labeled cargo did not enter the droplets, but fluorescently-labeled cargo packaged in an HIV-1 capsid was delivered. This indicated that the capsid could deliver cargo through a nuclear pore.

Using a biophysical binding assay, the researchers also showed that the HIV-1 capsid interacts with the proteins inside the channel. Different spaghetti-like proteins are found in different channel sections, such as at the cytoplasmic side’s entrance or only inside the channel; there are 10 such proteins in human cells. The capsid is a promiscuous binder — it can interact with all the spaghetti-like proteins found in the channel.

The capsid can target the nuclear pore complex even without the cell’s transport receptors, indicating that it is not commandeering native transport receptors to find and enter the nuclear pore. The team used a classic assay in the nucleocytoplasmic transport field to collect this evidence: When cells are treated with digitonin, their membranes become porous. Everything in the cytoplasm will leak out of the cells, but the nuclear envelope will remain intact. Despite the absence of native proteins, the capsid was attracted to the nuclear pore complex, a behavior indicative of a nuclear transport receptor.

Although the capsid behaves like a nuclear transport receptor to penetrate the nuclear pore, it is fundamentally different. A transport receptor doesn’t need to conceal material for delivery the way the capsid does to avoid detection.

These findings open new lines of inquiry for what the nuclear pore complex is capable of accommodating.

“The HIV-1 capsid is one of the largest things that we now know can go through the nuclear pore complex intact,” Weiskopf says. “It raises all kinds of questions — what other things could be going through the pore that we thought was impossible?”

Schwartz said another question is whether all of the 2,000 nuclear pores in human cells are identical or whether there is something that makes certain pores more amenable to allowing the capsid through.

The capsid is also known to be unusually elastic, a property that may be key for passage through the pore. Another interesting question for the field is whether the cone-shaped capsid gains entry into the pore by squeezing through.

Although the team has shown that the capsid can enter the pore, what happens at the other end of the channel is still unknown — whether the capsid fully or partially enters the nucleus or breaks down inside the channel. Weiskopf is working on perturbing parts of the capsid or the spaghetti-like proteins to learn more about which interactions are most important for successful capsid entry.

Although these results have expanded our understanding of the nuclear pore, much remains unknown, both for HIV-1 infection and for the transport process through the nuclear pore complex.

“The nuclear pore is such an important element of cell biology, we thought it would be interesting to understand it better — and that’s how we figured out that the pore is much bigger than we anticipated,” Schwartz says. “We will certainly try to see whether we can understand the mechanism of HIV-1 infection, how the capsid is released on the other side of the channel, and what factors are important there — and to what extent you can manipulate it or influence it for therapeutic applications.”

Blood cell family trees trace how production changes with aging

A new method from the Weissman Lab provides a detailed look at the family trees of human blood cells and the characteristics of individual cells, providing insights into hematopoietic stem cells (HSCs).

January 19, 2024
How cells accurately assemble complex machinery

New research from the Cheeseman Lab reveals how cells control the location of the machinery that splits apart chromosomes during cell division.

January 2, 2024
Sergey Ovchinnikov

Education

  • Graduate: PhD, 2017, University of Washington
  • Undergraduate: BS, 2010, Micro/Molecular Biology, Portland State University

Research Summary

Sergey Ovchinnikov uses phylogenetic inference, protein structure prediction/determination, protein design, deep learning, energy-based models, and differentiable programming to tackle evolutionary questions at environmental, organismal, genomic, structural, and molecular scales, with the aim of developing a unified model of protein evolution.

New research explores intertwined structures of protein Met18

Research from the Drennan Lab in the Department of Biology at MIT explores how a protein called Met18, which is part of a ubiquitous pathway to transfer clusters of iron and sulfur to client proteins in the cytosol and nucleus of cells, can interact with other Met18 units to form intertwined structures

Lillian Eden | Department of Biology
December 18, 2023
Whitney Henry

Education

  • Graduate: PhD, 2016, Harvard University
  • Undergraduate: BS, 2010, Biology, Grambling State University

Research Summary

Ferroptosis is an iron-dependent form of cell death with profound implications in human health and disease. In the context of cancer, the use of ferroptosis inducers to target subpopulations of highly metastatic and therapy-resistant cancer cells has garnered much excitement over the last few years. However, to gain a comprehensive understanding of the full therapeutic potential of ferroptosis, our research focuses on (i) uncovering the molecular factors affecting ferroptosis susceptibility, (ii) studying its impact on the tumor microenvironment, and (iii) developing innovative ways to modulate ferroptosis resistance in vivo. We employ a multidisciplinary approach, combining functional genomics, metabolomics, bioengineering, and a range of in vitro and in vivo models to advance our understanding in this domain and to translate our findings into effective therapies.

Awards

  • The Margaret and Herman Sokol Postdoctoral Award, 2022
  • Ludwig Center at MIT Postdoctoral Fellowship, 2022
  • Jane Coffin Childs Memorial Fund Postdoctoral Fellowship, 2017
  • HHMI International Predoctoral Research Fellowship, 2013
Machine learning helps predict drugs’ favorite subcellular haunts

Small molecule drugs, such as those used for cancer treatment, tend to concentrate in specific regions of the cell, and can bind to things besides their intended target. These collective, weak interactions may detain a significant percentage of drug molecules. New research from the Young lab trained a machine learning model to predict where a drug will concentrate based on its chemical features, which may be relevant to understanding many cellular processes and to the design of safe and effective drugs.

September 27, 2023
3 Questions: Daniel Lew on what we can learn about cells from yeast

New professor of biology uses budding yeast to address fundamental questions in cell biology.

Lillian Eden | Department of Biology
September 28, 2023

Sipping a beer on an early autumn evening, one might not consider that humans and yeast have been inextricably linked for thousands of years; winemaking, baking, and brewing all depend on budding yeast. Outside of baking and fermentation, researchers also use Saccharomyces cerevisiae, classified as a fungus, to study fundamental questions of cell biology.

Budding yeast gets its name from the way it multiplies. A daughter cell forms first as a swelling, protruding growth on the mother cell. The daughter cell projects further and further from the mother cell until it detaches as an independent yeast cell.

How do cells decide on a front and back? How do cells decode concentration gradients of chemical signals to orient in useful directions, or sense and navigate around physical obstacles? New Department of Biology faculty member Daniel “Danny” Lew uses the model yeast S. cerevisiae, and a non-model yeast with an unusual pattern of cell division, to explore these questions. 

Q: Why is it useful to study yeast, and how do you approach the questions you hope to answer?

A: Humans and yeast are descended from a common ancestor, and some molecular mechanisms developed by that ancestor have been around for so long that yeast and mammals often use the same mechanisms. Many cells develop a front and migrate or grow in a particular direction, like the axons in our nervous system, using similar molecular mechanisms to those of yeast cells orienting growth towards the bud.

When I started my lab, I was working on cell cycle control, but I’ve always been interested in morphogenesis and the cell biology of how cells change shape and decide to do different things with different parts of themselves. Those mechanisms turn out to be conserved between yeast and humans.

But some things are very different about fungal and animal cells. One of the differences is the cell wall and what fungal cells have to do to deal with the fact that they have a cell wall.

Fungi are inflated by turgor pressure, which pushes their membranes against the rigid cell wall. This means they’ll die if there is any hole in the cell wall, which would be expected to happen often as cells remodel the wall in order to grow. We’re interested in understanding how fungi sense when any weak spots appear in the wall and repair them before those weak spots become dangerous.

Yeast cells, like most fungi, also mate by fusing with a partner. To succeed, they must do the most dangerous thing in the fungal life cycle: get rid of the cell wall at the point of contact to allow fusion. That means they must be precise about where and when they remove the wall. We’re fascinated to understand how they know it is safe to remove the wall there, and nowhere else.

We take an interdisciplinary approach. We’ve used genetics, biochemistry, cell biology, and computational biology to try and solve problems in the past. There’s a natural progression: observation and genetic approaches tend to be the first line of attack when you know nothing about how something works. As you learn more, you need biochemical approaches and, eventually, computational approaches to understand exactly what mechanism you’re looking at.

I’m also passionate about mentoring, and I love working with trainees and getting them fascinated by the same problems that fascinate me. I’m looking to work with curious trainees who love addressing fundamental problems.

Q: How does yeast decide to orient a certain way — toward a mating partner, for example?

A: We are still working on questions of how cells analyze the surrounding environment to pick a direction. Yeast cells have receptors that sense pheromones that a mating partner releases. What is amazing about that is that these cells are incredibly small, and pheromones are released by several potential partners in the neighborhood. That means yeast cells must interpret a very confusing landscape of pheromone concentrations. It’s not apparent how they manage to orient accurately toward a single partner.

That got me interested in related questions. Suppose the cell is oriented toward something that isn’t a mating partner. The cell seems to recognize that there’s an obstacle in the way, and it can change direction to go around that obstacle. This is how fungi get so good at growing into things that look very solid, like wood, and some fungi can even penetrate Kevlar vests.

If they recognize an obstacle, they have to change directions and go around it. If they recognize a mating partner, they have to stick with that direction and allow the cell wall to get degraded. How do they know they’ve hit an obstacle? How do they know a mating partner is different from an obstacle? These are the questions we’d like to understand.

Q: For the last couple of years, you’ve also been studying a budding yeast that forms multiple buds when it reproduces instead of just one. How did you come across it, and what questions are you hoping to explore?

A: I spent several years trying to figure out why most yeasts make one bud and only one bud, which I think is related to the question of why migrating cells make one and only one front. We had what we thought was a persuasive answer to that, so seeing a yeast completely disobey that and make as many buds as it felt like was a shock, which got me intrigued.

We started working on it because my colleague, Amy Gladfelter, had sampled the waters around Woods Hole, Massachusetts. When she saw this specimen under a microscope, she immediately called me and said, “You have to look at this.”

A question we’re very intrigued by is if the cell makes five, seven, or 12 buds simultaneously, how do they divide the mother cell’s material and growth capacity five, seven, or 12 ways? It looks like all of the buds grow at the same rate and reach about the same size. One of our short-term goals is to check whether all the buds really get to exactly the same size or whether they are born unequal.

And we’re interested in more than just growth rate. What about organelles? Do you give each bud the same number of mitochondria, nuclei, peroxisomes, and vacuoles? That question will inevitably lead to follow-up questions. If each bud has the same number of mitochondria, how does the cell measure mitochondrial inheritance to do that? If they don’t have the same amount, then buds are each born with a different complement and ratio of organelles. What happens to buds if they have very different numbers of organelles?

As far as we can tell, every bud gets at least one nucleus. How the cell ensures that each bud gets a nucleus is a question we’d also very much like to understand.

We have molecular candidates because we know a lot about how model yeasts deliver nuclei, organelles, and growth materials from the mother to the single bud. We can mutate candidate genes and see if similar molecular pathways are involved in the multi-budding yeast and, if so, how they are working.

It turns out that this unconventional yeast has yet to be studied from the point of view of basic cell biology. The other thing that intrigues me is that it’s a poly-extremophile. This yeast can survive under many rather harsh conditions: it’s been isolated in Antarctica, from jet engines, from all kinds of plants, and of course from the ocean as well. An advantage of working with something so ubiquitous is we already know it’s not toxic to us under almost any circumstances. We come into contact with it all the time. If we learn enough about its cell biology to begin to manipulate it, then there are many potential applications, from human health to agriculture.