With a background spanning business, biotech, engineering and space research, John Collins, winner of the KHMW Young Talent Thesis Award: Life Sciences, is on a mission to rethink heavy industry, explore microbial mysteries and push boundaries—both in the lab and far beyond.
You have a very impressive CV, spanning business, engineering, science, and startups. When did you really decide to focus on science?
I originally did my bachelor's in business. At some point, I realized I wanted to start a company because I thought that was the best way to make a change in the world. But I reached a barrier—you can’t really do that effectively if you only have a business background.
When I did my business degree, I actually wanted to become a doctor. But I found the path too constraining—you’re limited by hospital systems and protocols. Startups, on the other hand, are open-ended. They allow you to combine skills across business, engineering, and science. I’ve consciously made an effort to be able to communicate across these disciplines. If I can’t, I know I need to learn more in that area.
Do you think academia is embracing this interdisciplinary approach now, or are some people still stuck in traditional disciplines?
We are improving. More people are entering academia with no intention of staying long-term, which is a shift from twenty years ago. Collaboration across disciplines is crucial—for example, many AI breakthroughs initially took inspiration from human biology.
At the same time, deep expertise is still necessary. Fundamental research without immediate application often leads to discoveries that shape the future. So both approaches are important, and I’m glad to see academia moving in this direction, especially since I focus more on applied research and interdisciplinary collaboration.
My goal is to be around 80% proficient in many areas rather than 99% in one. I lead specialists and rely on their expertise while understanding their thinking.
What is your ultimate objective?
I’m concerned about the impact of heavy industry on climate and ecosystems. I envision a company that can decarbonize heavy industry while improving human and planetary health. I think of Earth as a closed ecosystem—like a space capsule—where we need to manage resources such as carbon dioxide, oxygen, and waste deliberately.
You grew up in Canada. What brought you to the Netherlands for your master’s?
I like to say I came for love—my partner was studying at the University of Utrecht. But professionally, the program was perfect: cross-disciplinary, combining computational and wet-lab work. The Netherlands is unique in its master’s programs. They offer a combination of coursework and hands-on research experience that can be hard to find in Canada.
The Free University and the University of Amsterdam made it possible to do a joint master’s at both universities. The Free University handled most administration, but I benefited from both campuses—meeting professors in systems biology and marine microbiology and having exposure to multiple perspectives.
And, of course, the Netherlands is absolutely beautiful.
What was your research about?
We studied microbes living on plastics in the ocean, looking at different types of plastics and over time. Using computational techniques, we tracked how microbial communities developed. Interestingly, we found that microbes on biodegradable plastics form relationships that may contribute to their degradation—relationships not seen on fossil-based plastics. We’re currently preparing this research for publication.
You did an internship at the European Space Agency on microbes breaking down bioplastics in space. That must have been exciting.
It was amazing. ESA ESTEC in Noordwijk is a fantastic facility. My work involved materials on Earth and their counterparts in space. The environment, the people, the science—all of it was inspiring.
You’ve climbed Kilimanjaro, done a half-Ironman, and run four marathons. Does that mindset influence your research?
Definitely. These challenges taught me perseverance. When you’re 35 kilometers into a marathon or six days into a Kilimanjaro trek, you learn not to quit—even when it’s tough. That mindset carries over to research. Scientists are resilient, and I try to emulate that.
Your research changed your initial hypothesis about plastic-degrading microbes. How did that feel?
It was humbling. I expected the microbes to dominate the communities because they had a unique food source, but they were actually secondary players. Most initial hypotheses are wrong, and learning from that is crucial for young scientists.
Should scientists be more open about “negative” results?
Absolutely. Papers often appear perfect, but they’re built on years of failed experiments. Sharing failures—what didn’t work and how you pivoted—would teach more about the scientific process than just the results.
Colleagues describe you as driven and curious. How do you maintain that mindset?
It’s in my nature. Growing up with parents who were science teachers, I was always encouraged to ask questions and explore. I approach the world as something I’m still learning from.
Anything you’d like to add?
For me, networking and seeking out opportunities have been crucial. For instance, my ESA opportunity came from proactively reaching out months in advance. You can’t predict outcomes, so it’s best to stack the odds in your favor.
