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Transcript of IVF Pioneer Robert Winston Interview on TRIGGERnometry 

EDITOR’S NOTE: In this episode of TRIGGERnometry, IVF pioneer Lord Robert Winston joins Francis Foster and Konstantin Kisin to talk about his unlikely path into medicine and the early days of in vitro fertilization. He discusses IVF and egg-freezing success rates, male fertility, epigenetics, designer babies and sex selection, and the tension between science, ethics and regulation, including the debate over sex and gender. This interview was premiered on September 26, 2026.

TRANSCRIPT:

Robert Winston’s Unexpected Path into Medicine

KONSTANTIN KISIN: (00:01:19 – 00:01:23): Professor Robert Winston, what a pleasure it is for us to have you on the show. Thank you so much for being here.

ROBERT WINSTON: (00:01:24 – 00:01:25): Thank you for having me.

KONSTANTIN KISIN: (00:01:25 – 00:01:51): Oh, it’s great to have you. Lots to talk about. We really want to talk about science and medicine, and particularly in the area of fertility, and maybe a little bit more. But before we get into that, can you tell— because I think it’s important for people to understand your expertise— a little bit about your medical career? You’re a pioneer of several things as part of IVF. Can you tell us a little bit about your experience and your life in medicine, and particularly?

ROBERT WINSTON: (00:01:51 – 00:07:26): Yeah, going into medicine was a complete mistake. I didn’t expect to do that. I had a bad time at school, and I think it’s partly because my father died when I was 8, and I missed that male figure in a very male society which I was in, because I was in one of these elite schools. And my mother had no money because she was supporting 3 children and I was the oldest. And I got a scholarship, which was very helpful. But I always had this odd feeling that I was going to die at the age of 42 because that’s when my father did. And therefore, why bother to try? And I wasn’t academically inadequate, but I stopped scoring during my time at school.

So by the time— GCSEs or the equivalent, O-levels are all right, but I don’t want to bore you with all this stuff. But when it came to A-level, I really performed very badly in the mock A-levels, and my school said, “Well, he’s never going to university,” and just pretty well wrote me off, actually, which was quite common in those sorts of schools. And so I left school actually with quite good A-levels, ’cause I suddenly realized I had to work. But with no clear idea what I wanted to do. I had a place at Cambridge, but I wasn’t sure that I wanted to do natural sciences. And I thought, actually, medicine’s so glamorous, and it was, there are interesting people. It was nothing to do with what you’d now ask a medical student.

And I think it’s very important that we understand that it’s really useful for young people not to know where they’re going, not to be too concerned about the usual channels to get into a particular place, and to remember that if you’re sensible, you’re going to change direction again and again anyway. And I think I’ve done that a bit. During school and then later on, because I wasn’t doing my academic work very well, I got really involved with theater and I decided I really wanted to do theater. In fact, at university, I produced plays and ended up doing a play, The Young Professor, which did incredibly well commercially. And I then came to my senses and realized actually I should be doing something which is what I’ve been trained to do. So I went in to do clinical medicine, but that was unsatisfactory because it wasn’t really a challenge in the way that I wanted. It was the intellectual side which turned out to be really interesting. I wasn’t a great scientist, of course not, but it was just the way of thinking about puzzles about stuff and thinking, “Well, that really does mean something,” ’cause you could change things.

And so I was incredibly lucky because when I came from Edinburgh, I couldn’t get a job because I’d been a hippie. I’d been 4 years trying to get jobs in medicine and doing that for a while. But once I’d been to Edinburgh, nobody would take me at interview. And I wanted to do women’s health ’cause it seemed to me to be an underused area of medicine, which was not then very popular. And those interviews were horrible actually. I remember one interview in the West End of London for a very famous hospital. There were 14 people around the table and me. They all had their backs to the light, so I couldn’t really see their faces. They’re all in 3-piece suits. They were all male except 3 of them were in morning dress because they’d been to their private practice in Harley Street, which was quite usual to be in morning dress and with a wing collar. So I knew as I walked into the room, I wasn’t going to get this job. And of course, one walked out backwards and bowed as I went through the door. At least I think I tried to bow, but did it very unsuccessfully. And thought, “Well, what a waste of time that was.”

And I was really lucky. I was out of work for a little while. And then I wrote a letter to somebody who I thought was really eminent, a man called John McClure Browne. And remarkably, I got a letter by return of post, handwritten, saying, “I don’t have a job for you, but if you want to come and chat about a career, do you want to come along 7 o’clock one evening?” And he got me onto the idea of doing an academic medical job. And my first project grant was something I had no qualifications to do that research.