Donald Seldin: A Transformative Leader in Medicine and Nephrology

On April 25, 2018, Dr. Donald Seldin passed away at the age of 97, and the world lost a great treasure. Born in Coney Island, Brooklyn, Seldin attended James Madison High School and established his intellectual roots early on. He then attended New York University, where he was particularly interested in poetry and philosophy, but being a product of the depression, he decided to pursue a more profitable occupation. That together with his interest in science led him to medicine. This decision would have a profound effect on many aspects of the world that we now know.

After college, Seldin attended Yale School of Medicine. During his third year at Yale, he met John P. Peters, a professor of metabolism in the Department of Medicine. Seldin did research with Peters and throughout his career, spoke of Peters with unequaled respect. His research on diabetic acidosis, which began at this time, would chart a course for his future interests in metabolism and electrolytes.

After a stint in the army, Peters invited Seldin back to Yale, where he would continue his academic career. In 1951, he moved to Southwestern Medical School to join the medicine department led by Charles Burnett. Soon after Seldin’s arrival, Burnett left along with the rest of the faculty, and Seldin was offered the position of chair. With an option to return to Yale, at the age of 31, Seldin accepted the positon to lead a department with no faculty other than himself and no money to recruit other faculty. The only buildings were a collection of decaying army barracks. Although such a decision would seem ill advised in today’s world—and perhaps, in 1951 as well—Seldin stated that it was the perfect opportunity for him. He knew what a great medical school should be, and he knew how to create it. He stated that the established schools in the Northeast were too entrenched in their ways and that it would be very difficult for anyone to have a major impact. “The beauty of Southwestern was that I did not have to fire anyone,” he said.

The meteoric rise of Southwestern Medical School under Seldin’s leadership is now a well known tale. Critical to this was his eye for talent. Seldin identified brilliant students, had them do research in his laboratory, sent them out to train in the best laboratories (frequently at the National Institutes of Health), and brought them back to Southwestern. They all came back, and one can wonder why. In today’s world, it is difficult to envision these brilliant and highly successful investigators all returning to a school that, in those days, had minimal academic stature. One can only conclude that it was Seldin himself who drew them back. Many went on to become towering figures in their fields, being elected to the National Academy of Sciences and earning the Nobel Prize. Science magazine wrote an article describing the amazing ascent of Southwestern Medical School, “UT Southwestern: From Army Shacks to Research Elites.” I (R.A.) remember the excitement that day at Southwestern. Seldin came into my office, threw the issue of Science on my desk, and referred to it as a piece of trash. He said there was too much emphasis on the role of money: “Everyone had money in those days; we had taste!” he said.

In parallel with his effect on medicine, Seldin had an enormous effect on nephrology. He helped to found the discipline, was one of the founders of the American Society of Nephrology, and served as the second president of the society. He ran a laboratory that studied almost every aspect of nephrology and in the process, trained an extraordinary number of renal fellows who would go on to become nephrology division chiefs and medicine department chairs.

In a brief biography of Seldin written for Kidney International in 1988, Floyd Rector described the essence of who Seldin was: “those of us privileged to work with Seldin over the years remember him, not by his bibliography or his many awards, but rather by his unique personal qualities: his fascination with the fruits of the human intellect in all its dimensions, his admiration for those who strive tenaciously for excellence, his own continual search for knowledge…He was lavish in his praise of the clever or novel idea, the ingenious experiment, the scholarly lecture, the extraordinary effort expended in the care of a seriously ill patient.”¹

Seldin was an intellect and scholar of every aspect of life. On Mondays, he would tour the school, explaining to everyone the multitude of mistakes that the Dallas Cowboys made in Sunday’s game. He was an expert in music and art, knew all of the best restaurants in the world, and was a connoisseur of wine. He read widely and never forgot anything he read. Seldin never became a poet, but he would eloquently quote long passages from Yeats without any notes, unintentionally reminding us that we were in the presence of an extraordinary intellect.

Seldin did return to his early interest in philosophy. He studied and thought through every aspect of life with an emphasis on academic medicine. He was a staunch supporter of science but always emphasized that medical schools needed to be more than research institutes. In his American Society for Clinical Investigation presidential address, he stated, “If investigation is progressively separated from clinical work and teaching, the educational process deteriorates. Only the investigator can inculcate the methods of critical inquiry acquired in research into the routine practice of medicine.”

Seldin cared deeply about teaching. He was noted for such comments as, “Here’s a dime. Go call your mother. She will know the answer to my question.” Although students sometimes lived in fear of such remarks, it was striking that someone so nationally and internationally renowned cared so much about educating students.

Seldin cared deeply about providing excellent health care to all, especially the underserved, and as such, he highly valued the affiliation of Southwestern with Parkland Hospital, the county hospital of Dallas. Although he valued health care and clinical teaching, he did not believe that medical schools should become involved in the business of health care. He predicted that, if medical schools owned hospitals, the need to make those hospitals financially viable would compete with and dominate their interest in the research and educational missions. He was, of course, correct, but as the world transformed, he was not one to dwell on the past. He would accept the inevitable, move on, and support excellence in the current context.

In 1943, Seldin married Muriel Goldberg, whom he had met in college. Muriel died in 1994, and he married Ellen Lee Taylor, who had been a student of his. In addition to his wife Ellen, Seldin is survived by his daughter Leslie Lynn Seldin and her partner Scot Meyer, daughter Donna Seldin Janis and her husband Carroll Janis, son Donald Craig Seldin, and two grandchildren Whitney Janis and Nathaniel Janis. We cannot help but add here that Seldin is also survived by a multitude of people on whose lives he had an incalculable effect.