Asma: You can make or break a nation by its quality of education (Photo: Low Yen Yeing/ The Edge Malaysia)
“Science was not my No 1” may be far from the confession many expect to hear from the woman most well known for developing the first rapid typhoid testing kit in the world. “I had always wanted to be a lawyer or an interior decorator,” Professor Emerita Datuk Dr Asma Ismail, admits with a laugh.
A renowned name in the global scientific community, the triple-threat researcher, educator and policymaker has added her appointment as vice-chancellor of IMU University Malaysia (formerly the International Medical University) to a long list of impressive career achievements. On top of her instrumental role in developing Typhidot, a test for detecting Salmonella typhi (S. typhi) bacteria that reduced diagnostic times from days to a matter of hours, Asma has held many prominent positions in a multitude of institutions in Malaysia and beyond, being a member of the International Science Council and the Board of Governers for the Commonwealth of Learning, Canada.
The Fellow of Sciences Malaysia has been decorated with over 270 accolades for her work, and notably made Forbes Asia’s 50 Over 50 list in January 2023 for her contributions to higher education. The trailblazer is the first woman to hold the positions of vice-chancellor of Universiti Sains Malaysia (USM), Universiti Sains Islam Malaysia, director-general of higher education, president of the Academy of Sciences Malaysia (ASM), chairperson of the Malaysian Qualifications Agency and national science adviser to the prime minister.
So, while we cannot say for certain what legislative landmarks or design masterpieces we may have missed out on in an alternate timeline, many will agree that our world is significantly enhanced by Asma’s incomparable acumen in her chosen domains.
A scientist is (re)born
For a young Asma, talk of infectious diseases was a regular topic for a lunch conversation. “While other children were playing games, I sat beside my father and listened to and conversed with these World Health Organization (WHO) guys,” reminisces Asma, 66, whose parent was chief public health inspector of Penang and would regularly bring colleagues to the house to chat about work. “Whether I liked it or not, these things were imbibed in me.”
Though her passions lay elsewhere, there was no dulling the shine of natural talent; Asma remembers attaining excellent school results in the sciences for the Malaysian Certificate of Education (MCE). Her eager father urged her to pursue medicine in the hope that she would become a doctor, but Asma had a different kind of title in mind. “I said to him, ‘I’m gonna get the ‘Dr’ in front of my name, but it ain’t gonna be in medicine; it’s gonna be a PhD.’ That was the compromise I made.” Casting childhood ambitions aside, Asma set off for the US to further studies at the University of Nevada, Reno, eventually attaining her doctorate in cellular and molecular biology.
Returning home in the 1980s, the newly minted researcher found the biotechnology community in Malaysia to be a sparse 100 or 200 people, with even fewer in medical biotech. But it was in this tight-knit group that Asma discovered the importance networking held in fostering a collaborative and resource-rich research culture, an ethos she not only sustains but insists her students adopt as well. “That’s the foundation for any young academic —when they return [from studying abroad] — they have to learn: working in silos is a no-go. You become better in partnership, in collaboration,” she offers with the didactic enthusiasm of a seasoned educator.
Though some may be quick to condemn the lack of support for the arts as a typical Asian parent symptom, the good doctor refers to herself as a “born-again scientist” for heeding her father’s wisdom.
“He probably saw something in me I didn’t see at that young age. But as I’ve grown and evolved, professors have also seen the same thing in me — that I’m a practical person who wants to do relevant things.” To this day, “relevance” is a keyword she identifies with and advocates ardently. “If you work on a disease that is relevant to the country, then your academic career will be smooth-sailing. Most young academics don’t understand that choosing the area of research will either make or break your career,” she cautions.
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Pioneering change
It was 1984 — the year of Orwellian portent, but thought crimes and ThinkPol tyranny were not exactly the issues plaguing the Malaysia of the period. Typhoid had been ravaging the country, with Kelantan, Kedah, Sabah and Sarawak consistently representing the highest numbers of cases. Hospitals were struggling to keep up with the influx of patients, since serum-based diagnoses for the disease required five days and blood cultures up to 10. Suffice it to say, typhoid was indeed “relevant” and therein lay the opportunity for Asma to do something of impact.
“Fever for five days covers a lot of diseases, so, typhoid diagnosis was critical. I wanted to work on something that I could accomplish during my lifetime, that’s why I chose to work on diagnostics. If you could produce a test that could be done quickly, you could then decide which [patient] to give medication to and which one to hospitalise. What we had at the time was Dot-EIA (enzyme immunoassay) technology, but what I wanted to produce was a test that [could] be done within three hours,” she elaborates. “So, I did that.”
Typhidot works by detecting IgM and IgG antibodies against the outer membrane protein of S. typhi, which thereby indicates acute typhoid fever. Its inception enabled Asma and her team to acquire 16 patents for both its discovery and separate technology platforms over the years. Upon travelling to other Asia-Pacific countries, however, she discovered that the varying needs of the population meant that her existing invention would have to be refined to be able to do wider good. For example, it was infants (rather than school-going children) in poverty-stricken parts of Indonesia who were contracting the disease from being fed contaminated water. “You cannot say the diagnostics you have developed will work in other countries the way it does in Malaysia. That’s why I produced the Typhidot-M patent, because it removes the IgG and leaves only the IgM, which is how you can now detect it in small children. Typhidot-M was probably one of my best discoveries.”
Here, the luminary recalls her fateful meeting with chemistry Nobel Laureate Ahmed Zewail as the inspiration to work on “unprofitable” diseases rampant in underdeveloped and developing countries: “At the time, I was a fellow of the [ASM] and we had a closed-room discussion with him. I was in awe of this guy! He said, ‘If you work on something that the West is interested in, you will be 20 years behind. But if you work on something [they are] not interested in, you will be 20 years ahead.’ That became my mantra.”
And while the test did not sell as well locally (“thank God — we had only 10,000 cases per year”), the cumulative annual cases from nearby nations meant a sufficient sales volume to substantiate investment from diagnostic companies. “Typhidot went to 18 countries. What we had done was create a local solution that could be used globally. I had made something important for the country — and the world.”
Support systems
Asked what obstacles she must have surmounted as a woman during her career, rather than a poignant tale of struggle, the professor gives a knowing chuckle. “People often ask me what hardships I’ve braved. How do I tell you that I’m an outlier? I don’t actually have any barriers to my career.”
It is not lost on Asma, however, that she has been fatefully exempted from the challenges commonly faced by women in STEM, a position few who leave employment to take care of their families are able to enjoy.
She insightfully adds, “Women in general in Malaysia have no problems in science. We have the highest number of women in science in Southeast Asia.” Yet, despite a consistently higher percentage of female students in universities, the gender ratio tips in favour of men considerably as graduates transition into the workforce. Why? “It’s the lack of work-life balance that makes many women give up,” Asma says, citing insufficient support for those who wish to return to work, following a hiatus. “According to data, in Malaysia, [women] give up our careers at 26 years of age, but in Korea or Japan, many return to the workforce at the average age of 34.” While the government last year announced five-year income tax exemptions for women returning to work following a gap, the empty space in one’s résumé tends to make for a far less attractive candidate, she says. “Taking care of children is like a negative thing. But this is raising future nation builders; why is it bad?”
In her personal life, Asma credits her extremely supportive husband and not having children as the primary factors for her ability to maintain a stable balance between work and home. Equally quick to be given thanks is her research team: “To make a strong dynamic, there can’t be ego — no diva. Even me. One day I’m the head, but tomorrow my student could be the lead. We learn from each other. That’s how I remain friends with all my students, even if they’re professors or Datuks now. The bottom line is, learning is a two-way street, the bonding is very strong and we become each other’s support. I have good friends, a good spouse — that makes a huge difference in the careers of women.”
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Ahead of the pack
Beyond the laboratory, Asma has been a key figure in the policymaking decisions in science higher education in the country, but while you can take the researcher out of the lab, you cannot take the lab out of the researcher. The professor makes it clear one’s experience in the field helps one understand the structural changes that need to be made.
“I asked myself, ‘How do I make a change in the landscape of research in the country?’ If I stay in USM, I just jaga kampung [have influence in a limited sphere] and that’s it. To make a real difference, I had to move up to the national level. That’s how I became high-profile at the ministry level, moving my way to making decisions. Of course, it’s only [when] you’ve been through the mill that you know what changes you want to see, from what you’ve [experienced]. That’s why I went through research, fundamentals, technology platforms, the establishment of institutes, to make sure more people do what I’m doing, winning awards. But at the end of the day, you still have to move on to the next level.”
While occupying the professorial chair of medicine at the International Islamic University Malaysia, Asma realised although she could play a significant role helping people and teaching them about governance and leadership, she was not in a position to make decisions for the university. When IMU offered her the opportunity to do so, she readily welcomed a chance to return to leadership.
“When you’re involved in policy, you know what direction higher education is going in, and I know where science is heading in the country. All that will be put to waste if it is not encapsulated and placed into a strategic plan or action for any university to go forward with. I thought coming back to lead a university like IMU would allow me to test-run some of these ideas I have in order to align higher education with the future where they should be.”
On a national level, Asma is involved in rewriting the 2026 to 2035 Higher Education Blueprint, having previously co-developed the current one. “Not many people have been given the chance to turn around higher education in the country, and I’ve got this opportunity twice, so, God must be kind. I hope this time around, there will be new improvements, whatever they may be, for the betterment of the nation.”
Ever forward-facing, she is well aware the approaches of the past cannot persist without scrutiny when applied to a modern age of teaching.
“We are now in a different generation: I’m a boomer thinking like a Gen Z — what would they want? How do we prepare students for the future? It’s no longer about making them industry-ready, but future-ready. They have to be adaptive, agile and resilient. If you can equip the students of tomorrow with these traits, they can pursue any career.”
Just as the researcher adapted her diagnostic work between countries, the educator in her brings an equal level of mobility to facing the new era of academic needs, noting that the pandemic and faltering planetary health are non-negligible influences in the tailoring of future curricula. “We have been training students to be linear thinkers, but we need to think systemically. What they are currently learning is to treat symptoms, but where are the symptoms coming from? Ninety-eight per cent of diseases are caused by climate change because we aren’t taking care of the planet. If they continue in medicine the way it is, they will continue to address symptoms and not the root cause. We must change the way we train the students of the future.”
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The next generation
It is immediately apparent how much Asma’s practical, purposeful and action-oriented philosophy has influenced her approach to education, as well as her stance on fostering a good work ethic among young researchers — traits she brings to her post at IMU in a mission to elevate the nation’s first private medical university to the status of an internationally preferred institution.
“When we start to unbundle higher education, there’s going to be a lot of providers, and therefore competition is going to be very stiff between universities. So, what is the differentiating factor that needs to be there? How do I make IMU different from the rest?” she posits. “The involvement of planetary health and changing the curriculum will make a difference to the kind of medical, business and veterinary students we currently produce who are not only proficient in their work but also environmentally conscious about their solutions. We need have a mindset that damage to the environment is damage to ourselves, so they are aware how climate change directly affects diseases.
“For example, pollutants are a huge influencer of lung cancer; it is what is turning on the genes that allow this cancer to happen. Such thinking needs to be inculcated; future solutions are only going to get more complex. Any university looking to elevate itself is essentially dealing with preparing students to face the unknown.”
Asma contends that in addition to medical researchers, she hopes to see a rise in the number of MD-PhDs (a dual doctoral programme for physician-scientists) in Malaysia. “They are what the country really needs. People like me can do research but we can’t touch patients; we can only take samples. But those with an MBBS (Bachelor of Medicine, Bachelor of Surgery) can actually know what’s wrong with patients, come out, do lab research and reapply it to the patient. We need more of this in the country.”
Looking to the future, Asma further proposes leveraging artificial intelligence to assist with the personalisation and customisation of the university experience to provide equity to different learners, effecting a degree of flexibility not present in the current highly-structured systems.
“You can make or break a nation by its quality of education. It is so very important to me. You can uplift the poor and marginalised through education, and the lack of it is a crime. We need to make it available, affordable and accessible to those who need it. As we face the unknown, the only way forward is with our values. Without it, we have nothing.”
This article first appeared on Sept 23, 2024 in The Edge Malaysia.
