16 Jan Meet Monell: Danielle Reed on Taste, Smell, and Compassion Through Science

Danielle Reed didn’t always know she would become a scientist. In fact, she started college as an economics major, drawn to the elegance of math but unsettled by how abstract it felt. Everything changed when she took a psychology course rooted in biology—and stepped into a lab for the first time.

“I had one of those classic bing moments,” she recalls. “It was like a duck to water. I was 19, and I knew immediately: this is what I want to do forever.”

Today, Reed is the Chief Science Officer at the Monell Chemical Senses Center and a Monell Member, meaning she holds both a leadership role and runs her own research lab. It’s a dual identity that reflects her career-long commitment to both discovery and people: advancing the science of taste and smell while helping other scientists pursue their own ideas.

From Graduate Student to Scientific Steward

Reed came to Monell in the late 1980s as a graduate student. At the time, she was studying how animals respond to different diets, asking big questions about metabolism, weight, and why some bodies gain fat while others don’t.

As the years passed, her science broadened along with her perspective. Monell’s deeply multidisciplinary environment—where biologists, chemists, neuroscientists, geneticists, and clinicians share space and ideas—reshaped how she thought about research.

“I’ve learned to be more collaborative and to ask broader questions,” she says. “And I’ve developed a real love for helping other scientists achieve their dreams.”

As Chief Science Officer, Reed sees her role as understanding the full scope of science happening at Monell and helping position that work in a larger context. Just as important, she helps ensure scientists have the resources, equipment, and support they need to do their best work.

A Mouse That Changed Everything

One pivotal moment still stands out in Reed’s scientific origin story. While visiting another lab, she encountered a mouse that was genetically obese—born with a mutation that made weight gain inevitable.

“It crystallized everything for me,” she says. “It made clear that we inherit things that shape our lives in profound ways, things that have nothing to do with willpower or behavior.”

That realization set the course for decades of research. Reed has spent her career exploring how small genetic differences can dramatically influence how people experience the world, from taste perception to food preferences to health outcomes.

Why Taste and Smell Matter to Everyone

To Reed, the science of taste and smell isn’t niche, it’s foundational. And it has real consequences for everyday life.

One reason Monell’s work matters, she explains, is that loss of smell is often one of the earliest signs of neurodegenerative diseases, including Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s. Smell, she says, can be a “canary in the coal mine.”

“We’re learning how to measure smell well,” she notes, “and we’re advocating for the idea that everyone should have their sense of smell tested, especially as we age.”

Another major area of impact is appetite and eating behavior. The smells and tastes we encounter influence hunger, food cravings, and what Reed calls “food noise”—persistent thoughts about eating that can shape health and quality of life. Understanding the brain circuitry behind these experiences has implications for obesity, eating disorders, and metabolic disease.

Then there’s taste itself. For people undergoing chemotherapy or radiation, changes in taste can make eating unbearable at a time when nutrition is critical. Monell researchers are working to understand how these treatments affect taste cells and how that damage might one day be prevented or reversed.

“These are just three stories,” Reed says. “There are many, many more.”

Compassion Through Science

Reed’s own research focuses on how inherited differences influence taste perception and why people like what they like.

“Everyone has had the experience of cooking for someone who doesn’t like the food,” she says. “Something you think is amazing, the person next to you thinks is terrible.”

Those differences, she explains, often originate in our genes. Understanding them can foster empathy and better solutions.

“When we understand why people differ, we can feed people more effectively,” she says. Half-jokingly, she imagines a future “genotype restaurant,” where menus are tailored to the genetic makeup of diners’ taste receptors.

At the heart of this work is a belief that science can help us be more compassionate toward one another—less judgmental about preferences, behaviors, and bodies that aren’t universal.

Studying Sweetness, Rethinking Assumptions

Right now, Reed’s lab is deeply focused on sweet taste. While it’s often assumed that everyone loves sweetness equally, the reality is far more complex.

Her team is studying how variations in sweet taste receptors differ across populations worldwide and how those biological differences shape preferences. This matters, she says, because public health recommendations often assume that reducing sugar intake is equally achievable for everyone.

“For some people, that’s easy,” she explains. “For others, it may be much harder, not because of a lack of discipline, but because of biology.”

A Place Built on Collaboration

Reed credits Monell’s environment as a catalyst for this kind of work. Rather than siloed departments, the Center operates as a team, with each scientist bringing a distinct “superpower.”

“If I have a question about chemistry, I can walk down the hall and ask a chemist,” she says. “There’s no substitute for talking with an engaged colleague.”

What makes Monell especially effective, she adds, is a shared ethos: remarkable things happen when people aren’t overly concerned with who gets credit.

“People here contribute generously with their time and talent,” she says. “That’s why we accomplish so much.”

Pride, Curiosity, and the Future

After more than four decades in science, Reed says what makes her most proud isn’t a single discovery, it’s her enduring curiosity.

“I wake up every morning excited to learn,” she says. “I still hate to go to lunch because something interesting might happen.”

She’s equally proud of the scientists she’s trained and mentored, and of creating spaces where people can learn rapidly in a field that evolves faster than any formal curriculum.

Looking ahead, Reed is excited by the scale of what’s now possible. With larger datasets and better tools, she imagines a future where genetics, behavior, and environment are integrated in ways that transform how we think about food, health, and human variation.

And despite recent challenges facing the scientific community, she remains optimistic.

“Science is enduring,” she says. “We support each other. There’s a way forward, and I’m excited to be part of it.”