In vivo effects of tailored laminin-332 α3 conjugated scaffolds enhances wound healing:a histomorphometric analysis

Surface modification techniques have been used to develop biomimetic scaffolds by incorporating cell adhesion peptides. In our previous work, we have shown the tethering of laminin-332 α3 chain to type I collagen scaffold using microbial transglutaminase (mTGase), promotes cell adhesion, migration, and proliferation. In this study, we evaluated the wound healing properties of tailored laminin-332 α3 chain (peptide A: PPFLMLLKGSTR) tethered to a type I collagen scaffold using mTGase by incorporating transglutaminase substrate peptide sequences containing either glutamine (peptide B: PPFLMLLKGSTREAQQIVM) or lysine (peptide C: PPFLMLLKGSTRKKKKG) in rat full-thickness wound model at two different time points (7 and 21 days). Histological evaluations were assessed for wound closure, epithelialization, angiogenesis, inflammatory, fibroblastic cellular infiltrations, and quantified using stereological methods (p < 0.05). Peptide A and B tethered to collagen scaffold using mTGase stimulated neovascularization, decreased the inflammatory cell infiltration and prominently enhanced the fibroblast proliferation which significantly accelerated the wound healing process. We conclude that surface modification by incorporating motif of laminin-332 α3 chain (peptide A: PPFLMLLK GSTR) domain and transglutaminase substrate to the laminin-332 α3 chain (peptide B: PPFLMLLKGSTREAQQIVM) using mTGase may be a potential candidate for tissue engineering applications and skin regeneration. © 2013 Wiley Periodicals, Inc. J Biomed Mater Res Part A: 101A:2788-2795, 2013. Copyright © 2013 Wiley Periodicals, Inc., a Wiley Company.

Extra compensation for inventive employees:is our system equitable, unbiased and motivating?

There is a presumption that invention is good. It provides us with innovative goods, services and ways of doing things leading to greater employment, wealth and health. This article looks at the two recent UK cases regarding statutory extra compensation that may be awarded to employee inventors under the Patents Act 1977. Most universities worldwide and many companies have individual inventor reward schemes. Researchers now work in teams made up of both industry and academic researchers who are often based in different countries where different legal regimes apply. Is leaving the decision to award employees extra financial compensation up to individual companies unfair, unequal and de-motivating? Is having differing legislative systems in different European countries counter productive and a barrier to economic growth? There must be a balance between the inventor and the innovator. Do we have it right and if not what should it be? Legislation: Patents Act 1977 s.39 , s.40 , s.41 Cases: Kelly v GE Healthcare Ltd [2009] EWHC 181 (Pat); [2009] R.P.C. 12 (Ch D (Patents Ct)) Shanks v Unilever Plc [2010] EWCA Civ 1283; [2011] R.P.C. 12 (CA (Civ Div))

Is corporate social responsibility a new spirit of capitalism?

Our study casts doubt on whether the managerial literature on corporate social responsibility is currently capable of developing a persuasive discourse to bring about change in corporate capitalism. By applying the framework and methodology of the spirit of capitalism, introduced by Boltanski and Chiapello, to a corpus of managerial books, we suggest that corporate social responsibility exhibits the core characteristics that together exemplify the ‘spirit of capitalism’. However, corporate social responsibility deals inadequately with the two key characteristics of the spirit of capitalism—security and fairness—by disregarding individual security and tangible rewards for workers who play decisive roles in enacting the spirit. The lack of consideration for workers could weaken the potential of corporate social responsibility to grow into a new spirit of capitalism and to bring about changes envisioned by critical management studies in corporate capitalism.

[Review of] Ivo Mijnssen, The Quest for an Ideal Youth in Putin’s Russia I. Back to Our Future! History, Modernity and Patriotism According to Nashi, 2005–2012. Soviet and Post-Soviet Politics and Society, Stuttgart: Ibidem Verlag, 2012, 202pp., e 34.90 p/b

THE YOUTH MOVEMENT NASHI (OURS) WAS FOUNDED IN THE SPRING of 2005 against the backdrop of Ukraine’s ‘Orange Revolution’. Its aim was to stabilise Russia’s political system and take back the streets from opposition demonstrators. Personally loyal to Putin and taking its ideological orientation from Surkov’s concept of ‘sovereign democracy’, Nashi has sought to turn the tide on ‘defeatism’ and develop Russian youth into a patriotic new elite that ‘believes in the future of Russia’ (p. 15). Combining a wealth of empirical detail and the application of insights from discourse theory, Ivo Mijnssen analyses the organisation’s development between 2005 and 2012. His analysis focuses on three key moments—the organisation’s foundation, the apogee of its mobilisation around the Bronze Soldier dispute with Estonia, and the 2010 Seliger youth camp—to help understand Nashi’s organisation, purpose and ideational outlook as well as the limitations and challenges it faces. As such,the book is insightful both for those with an interest in post-Soviet Russian youth culture, and for scholars seeking a rounded understanding of the Kremlin’s initiatives to return a sense of identity and purpose to Russian national life.The first chapter, ‘Background and Context’, outlines the conceptual toolkit provided by Ernesto Laclau and Chantal Mouffe to help make sense of developments on the terrain of identity politics. In their terms, since the collapse of the Soviet Union, Russia has experienced acute dislocation of its identity. With the tangible loss of great power status, Russian realities have become unfixed from a discourse enabling national life to be constructed, albeit inherently contingently, as meaningful. The lack of a Gramscian hegemonic discourse to provide a unifying national idea was securitised as an existential threat demanding special measures. Accordingly, the identification of those who are ‘notUs’ has been a recurrent theme of Nashi’s discourse and activity. With the victory in World War II held up as a foundational moment, a constitutive other is found in the notion of ‘unusual fascists’. This notion includes not just neo-Nazis, but reflects a chain of equivalence that expands to include a range of perceived enemies of Putin’s consolidation project such as oligarchs and pro-Western liberals.The empirical background is provided by the second chapter, ‘Russia’s Youth, the Orange Revolution, and Nashi’, which traces the emergence of Nashi amid the climate of political instability of 2004 and 2005. A particularly note-worthy aspect of Mijnssen’s work is the inclusion of citations from his interviews with Nashicommissars; the youth movement’s cadres. Although relatively few in number, such insider conversations provide insight into the ethos of Nashi’s organisation and the outlook of those who have pledged their involvement. Besides the discussion of Nashi’s manifesto, the reader thus gains insight into the motivations of some participants and behind-the-scenes details of Nashi’s activities in response to the perceived threat of anti-government protests. The third chapter, ‘Nashi’s Bronze Soldier’, charts Nashi’s role in elevating the removal of a World War II monument from downtown Tallinn into an international dispute over the interpretation of history. The events subsequent to this securitisation of memory are charted in detail, concluding that Nashi’s activities were ultimately unsuccessful as their demands received little official support.The fourth chapter, ‘Seliger: The Foundry of Modernisation’, presents a distinctive feature of Mijnssen’s study, namely his ethnographic account as a participant observer in the Youth International Forum at Seliger. In the early years of the camp (2005–2007), Russian participants received extensive training, including master classes in ‘methods of forestalling mass unrest’ (p. 131), and the camp served to foster a sense of group identity and purpose among activists. After 2009 the event was no longer officially run as a Nashi camp, and its role became that of a forum for the exchange of ideas about innovation, although camp spirit remained a central feature. In 2010 the camp welcomed international attendees for the first time. As one of about 700 international participants in that year the author provides a fascinating account based on fieldwork diaries.Despite the polemical nature of the topic, Mijnssen’s analysis remains even-handed, exemplified in his balanced assessment of the Seliger experience. While he details the frustrations and disappointments of the international participants with regard to the unaccustomed strict camp discipline, organisational and communication failures, and the controlled format of many discussions,he does not neglect to note the camp’s successes in generating a gratifying collective dynamic between the participants, even among the international attendees who spent only a week there.In addition to the useful bibliography, the book is back-ended by two appendices, which provide the reader with important Russian-language primary source materials. The first is Nashi’s ‘Unusual Fascism’ (Neobyknovennyi fashizm) brochure, and the second is the booklet entitled ‘Some Uncomfortable Questions to the Russian Authorities’ (Neskol’ko neudobnykh voprosov rossiiskoivlasti) which was provided to the Seliger 2010 instructors to guide them in responding to probing questions from foreign participants. Given that these are not readily publicly available even now, they constitute a useful resource from the historical perspective.