Discovery of Penicillin

Fleming discovered penicillin by accident, published it, and then abandoned it for a decade — and the men who actually turned it into medicine almost didn't get credit at all.

In September 1928, Alexander Fleming returned from vacation to his laboratory at St. Mary's Hospital in London and found that one of his petri dishes had been contaminated by mold. Instead of throwing it out, he noticed something strange: the bacteria around the mold were dead. The mold — a Penicillium fungus — was producing something that killed them. Fleming's reaction, reportedly, was 'That's funny.'

Fleming published his findings in 1929 and named the antibacterial substance penicillin. The paper received almost no attention. Fleming struggled to isolate and stabilize the compound and eventually gave up on it. For the next decade, penicillin sat in the scientific literature largely ignored — a promising curiosity that no one could figure out how to use.

In 1939, a team at Oxford led by Howard Florey and biochemist Ernst Chain revived the research. They solved the isolation problem, developed a purification method, ran animal trials, and proved penicillin could cure bacterial infections in mice. Their first human test came in 1941: a police officer dying of blood poisoning showed dramatic improvement on the drug — then died when they ran out of supply. The team had been recycling his urine to extract traces of penicillin.

Penicillin arrived too late for most of World War I but became one of the decisive medical advantages of World War II. Mass production techniques developed in the United States allowed the Allies to produce enough penicillin to treat wounded soldiers on a large scale. Infections that had killed thousands in previous wars became survivable. The drug is credited with saving hundreds of thousands of Allied soldiers' lives.

The 1945 Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine went to Fleming, Florey, and Chain — but the credit question was contentious. Fleming became internationally famous as the 'discoverer' of penicillin, giving interviews and accepting honors worldwide. Florey, who was largely responsible for turning Fleming's accidental observation into a working medicine, was far less celebrated. Florey reportedly resented the imbalance but refused to campaign publicly for recognition.

Penicillin transformed medicine so completely that the modern world is essentially unimaginable without it. Before antibiotics, a scratch from a rusty nail, a tooth infection, or childbirth could be fatal. Fleming's contaminated petri dish — kept by chance instead of discarded — became the foundation of an entirely new class of drugs. The age of antibiotics is, in a real sense, the age that allowed the modern world to exist.