1. Paul Smaglik is a freelance writer in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.

Martin Giurfa struggled to survive as a scientist in 1980s Argentina. Under the country's military dictatorship, undergraduate biology training consisted of only botany and zoology. Evolution and neuroscience weren't in the curriculum. Political conditions made day-to-day living hard, let alone attempts at focusing on studying science. "That was a real nightmare in terms of persecution, terror and lack of intelligence," Giurfa says.

Threats of kidnapping abounded, and a number of people disappeared. Many senior scientists fled. When democracy returned in 1983, so did many scientists. "There was a huge explosion — many of the Argentinian professors in other countries came back," Giurfa says. "It was a fantastic time." His graduate education flourished as a result.

After three years of euphoria, the government in 1986 launched an economic plan that slashed funds for science and education. As the economy was hit by currency crises, research funding dwindled. "Most left. Some stayed," says Giurfa. "Those are the guys who deserve special credit." After a currency crisis emptied the government coffers, Giurfa had had enough. "I remember having to spend two to three months without salary, because the government didn't have enough money," says Giurfa, who left for Europe in 1990 and is now a professor of neuroscience at the University of Toulouse in France.

CORBIS

Bright future: the Pierre Auger Observatory (above) and a traditional Buenos Aires street (top).

Another financial and political crisis struck in 2001, followed by a currency crisis in 2002. But after five years of relative stability, Giurfa, like many Argentinian scientists, thinks the tide is turning again. He expects a better future for the hundreds of scientists who have stayed and the hundreds who may be thinking of returning.

President Cristina Elisabet Fernández de Kirchner — elected last year to succeed her husband Néstor Kirchner — has appointed molecular biologist Lino Barañao as the country's first-ever science minister. Argentinian scientists are excited because Barañao has spent much of his scientific career in the country. He has grappled with the challenges facing scientists trying to stay competitive, as both a university researcher and a member of the government.

These challenges are considerable. Scientists' salaries are low, even by Latin America standards. Equipment such as chemicals and reagents cost about twice the US price, and delivery is often delayed by trade restrictions. Although several large multinational drug and agricultural firms have a presence in Argentina, their investment in the country's research and development (R&D) has been negligible.

But the creation of the new ministry, and the selection of a working scientist to fill it, has given many scientists in Argentina a sense of cautious optimism.

"The feeling in the scientific community is a good one, not just because of the creation of this ministry, but particularly because the head is a scientist himself," says Marcelo Rubinstein, an investigator at the National Council for Science and Technology's institute for research on genetic engineering and molecular biology and professor at the University of Buenos Aires. "The whole nation, not only scientists, took the creation of a new ministry of a science as an indication of a more modern state."

But it will take more than a new ministry to make Argentina an attractive place to do science. Low pay is a major obstacle. "Without competitive salaries in science, the impact of scientific endeavours to improve Argentina's competitiveness is at a serious risk," says Rubinstein, who has won a series of Howard Hughes Medical Institute (HHMI) international scholarships.

Rubinstein has been able to pay his nine-member team relatively well, thanks to his HHMI funds. But such international support is not common in Argentina. Scientists are state employees, and Rubinstein is not optimistic that the government will soon be able to increase their salaries. Giving a pay rise to researchers but not to other federal employees would be politically unpopular. "I think the government will be very hesitant to admit that this is a critical point," he says.

Will Lino Barañao's appointment as minister help scientists such as Pablo Bauleo (right)?

Barañao, who recalls making $50 a month during one of Argentina's economic crises, is well aware that salaries need to be higher. He will encourage the government to increase overall investment in science — its current goal is 1% of GDP. "If we do that, we will be able to increase salaries," Barañao says, while emphasizing that the country's current standard of living and quality of life are not that bad. "The cost of living is cheaper here than in Brazil, for instance, he says. "It's amazing how the situation has changed."

Alberto Kornblihtt, professor of molecular and cell biology at the University of Buenos Aires, hopes that the new ministry will mean a science-budget increase, because the country needs infrastructure as well as higher salaries. "We need more new buildings and equipment," Kornblihtt says. He has in the past proposed taxes on multinational companies operating in Argentina to add to government funding for such facilities. Kornblihtt says several large multinationals have a sales presence, but invest little in terms of R&D or employing high-tech workers. He will encourage Barañao to change that situation. Multinationals should invest or spend a percentage in the local R&D economy, he says, or else pay a tax. "Otherwise they are just exploiting our country," he says.

Barañao says that, since the ministry's creation, two international drug companies have already expressed interest in Argentinian R&D. He wants to encourage more, as the country has well-trained scientists and an inexpensive workforce. "There are some tax incentives for biotechnology that we are considering, as well as for software and nanotechnology," he says.

Until that money materializes, young scientists who return are relying on the goodwill of colleagues in the country and hoping that investment and infrastructure will improve. Alejandro Colman-Lerner, a systems biologist at the University of Buenos Aires, has confidence in both. The political and economic climate has changed sufficiently to make his return to Argentina professionally viable. "If I'd have thought about coming back in 2001, I wouldn't have come back," says Colman-Lerner.

Even so, his return from the Molecular Science Institute in Berkeley, California, in 2005 wasn't easy. "There was no start-up funding," Colman-Lerner says. "I had to come back with basically nothing. The place where we are is not very big. My lab space is very limited." In California, he had ample space and equipment, as well as interactions with luminaries such as Sydney Brenner and Roger Brent, who trained him in molecular endocrinology and yeast genetics.

PIERRE AUGER OBSERVATORY

Looking up: the Pierre Auger Observatory's lidar scans the skies.

In Argentina, he also had to contend with a scientific culture that was unfamiliar with his budding interest in multidisciplinary work. "I didn't know if the physics people in Argentina would be interested," he says. He has managed to start collaborations with mathematicians and physicists, but now faces another frustration: the expense of chemicals and reagents. This is especially problematic given the limited start-up package for lab equipment, typically around US$35,000–40,000, which is about a third of the start-up cost in a US lab. "You have to pay shipping, insurance and a little bit more to get the goods out of customs and you often have to pay a third party," says Colman-Lerner. As a result, many reagents cost 50–100% more than they would if purchased in the United States.

But expense isn't the most crucial sticking point. Delays in getting supplies mean that simple experiments have to be put off, and scientists have to be less nimble in trying different experimental approaches. In the United States, the time between thinking about an experiment and doing it is relatively short, Colman-Lerner notes. "In Argentina, it takes much more planning," he says. Barañao says he intends to negotiate prices with the suppliers and examine the import laws.

Despite the obstacles, Guillermo Lanuza, currently a research associate at the Salk Institute for Biological Studies in La Jolla, California, says he is looking forward to returning to Argentina in a month to start up a neurobiology lab at the Leloir Institute Foundation in Buenos Aires. He made the decision to return before the creation of a science ministry, but thinks it may encourage others to come back as well.

The situation in Argentina has slowly improved during the past few years, Lanuza says, with regular, albeit limited, amounts of start-up funds becoming available. "The funding situation is still very limited, but at least after several rounds of funding, the grants are now being financed on a regular basis," Lanuza says.

What Argentinian scientists need even more than a windfall for salaries and infrastructure, though, is some stability and a long-range plan. Science has risen and fallen along with the economy and politics during the past three turbulent decades. "Maybe the creation of this ministry will lay the basis for having a long-term policy, independent of who is in the government," Lanuza says.

Optimistic: Martin Giurfa (top) and Marcelo Rubinstein.

A plan that steadily increases funding, boosts salaries and provides those who return with ample start-up funds could encourage researchers back from abroad. "A growing number of people are trying to return," Lanuza says. "At the same time we are very cautious, because history shows we should not be too excited."

Barañao wants to nurture stability. The economy has grown 8–9% a year during the past few years, he notes. "The future looks, I won't say bright, but more stable," he says. Once the government demonstrates increasing investments in science — and perhaps, creates some high-tech industry — more scientists will drop their caution about returning, Barañao says.

Javier Guillermo Magadán, a postdoc at the US National Institutes of Health, is monitoring the situation. He arrived in the United States in April for a two-year fellowship funded by the charitable Pew Foundation. His fellowship includes $35,000 in start-up funding, should he return to Argentina. The Argentinian government has established a similar scheme, with 120 expatriates applying for return funding. But there's no word yet on how many will be successful or the amount of money they will receive.

Magadán's future is complicated, because his wife Valeria Zarelli will finish her PhD this September and is seeking a postdoc in the United States. Magadán realizes that finding permanent positions for both of them in the same US city will be difficult, and anticipates better odds in Argentina. "People know us, know our work," he says. "Here it is a little difficult."

Barañao says that the country has secured an $80-million loan from the Inter-American Development Bank to repatriate scientists. "We will focus on young scientists finishing their postdoc training. We will provide money for tickets, travel, grants for initial development of the lab," he says. "And we will provide some salary supplement to make up the gap in income." So far, 130 people have applied.

International funding has also helped with some of the country's scientific infrastructure. For example, 17 countries including the United States, France, Germany, Britain and Argentina (http://www.auger.org/collaboration) have pooled $50 million to build the Pierre Auger Observatory, a cosmic-ray telescope to be located in Mendoza, east of the Andes. That investment has provided training and jobs for some Argentinian scientists, but the pay-off has been slow, says Pablo Bauleo, currently an astrophysics postdoc at Colorado State University, Fort Collins.

When he was a graduate student, the observatory hadn't been approved and there were few astrophysics positions open. Now, he travels to the observatory four times a year to perform calibration and maintenance on the equipment and also make some observations.

Initially, scientists from the developed world looked at the Argentinians as muscle for "tightening up the screws", Bauleo says. Now some of the postdocs and students who helped get the observatory running are finding work elsewhere. Bauleo hopes his work there will help him land a permanent position, perhaps at the northern arm of the observatory to be built in Colorado.

He is less optimistic about things in Argentina improving to the point where he could land a stable position. "The track record is not so good," Bauleo says.

But if Barañao can summon the resources, and if Argentina can break out of economic and political strife, the country's scientists stand to benefit. "It's a country that's been on a rollercoaster," says Rubinstein. "Anything can happen." But having a chief scientist means that the rollercoaster finally has the potential for a plan — and accountability.

"I am very optimistic," says. Kornblihtt. "Lino Barañao is well-prepared to lead us. Nevertheless, if things don't go right, I will be the first to criticize."