A Medical Miracle?

By | Thoughts

Dementia is often described as ‘a ticking time bomb’. According to the Alzheimer’s Society, by 2025 there will be one million sufferers in the UK and, without a cure, by 2051 that number is expected to double. It’s clear a treatment is needed and, if the many ‘breakthroughs’ that sadly turn out to be false-dawns are anything to go by, every effort is being made to rid society of what is fast becoming its biggest issue.

Which is probably why some of the more fanciful attempts receive so much media attention. On the face of it, the aims of companies like Elon Musk’s ‘Neuralink’ are straight from the pages of a science fiction novel: Link our thoughts with those of a computer and let artificial intelligence come up with the answer to dementia. Elon even thinks the ‘link’ could be functioning as a concept in as few as four years. Think about that. By 2022 you could be operating your phone by thought alone – no more bumping into others on your walk to work, that’s got to be a good thing, right?

There’s no doubting Elon’s track record in matters technical. Paypal and space rockets aside, the self-driving car is probably his most well-known venture so, at the very least, we should be taking him seriously. And, given his and other futurologist’s concerns with what AI might one day be capable of, his thoughts on the direction in which humankind is travelling should be treated with just as much respect. But it’s the laws of unintended consequences that have a habit of biting us and I have reason to believe they’re about to.

What if Neuralink (or one of the many other companies with the same altruistic aims) didn’t just find a cure for dementia but for all brain disorders? I’m no neurologist but I know for a solution to be found, our (or AI’s) understanding of how the human brain works would have to increase and dramatically. Replacing damaged neurones and synapses is one thing, but recovering the lost thoughts of an Alzheimer’s patient quite another and I think the temptation, not to mention the revolution, of using ‘other’ thoughts as replacements, will be too great. Why? Money of course.

Dementia currently costs the UK £26.3 billion a year and the majority of that is care. Parking secondary medical conditions to one side, that figure would be wiped out virtually overnight if each sufferer were cognitively able to not just recognise their loved ones again but to go about their lives as if the condition had never existed in the first place. Walk, talk, eat, love, laugh, communicate – everything we ‘normal’ people take for granted. Just imagine what the government would be able to do with the £26.3 billion of savings that would generate. Now imagine the pressure to turn that into £100 billion.

It wouldn’t take long. Once it becomes clear not just dementia but other brain diseases like autism or schizophrenia can finally be conquered, how long do you think it will be before the pressure to save money turns our leader’s thoughts to the minds of those deemed to be equally ‘sick’: Criminals. Aren’t prisons ‘correctional’ institutions anyway? Imagine – no more violence, no more rape, no more murder. Who could possibly object to that? And why stop there? How about ‘treating’ other threats to society – political extremists perhaps? Or even activists? In order to identify potential offenders, the government (or AI) would have to know what’s going on in our minds of course, but didn’t we just decide being able to use our phones by thought alone was a good thing?

Sound fanciful? Not if my experience is anything to go by I’m afraid. After thirty years of military service to my country, the government decided my mind was suffering and would benefit from a process called Cognitive Behavioural Therapy. At the time I was happy to engage – anything to help relieve the stress I was under – but when it became clear the process aimed to ‘correct’ my thinking, well, let’s just say I decided to write a series of novels about it.

Character interview

By | Fiction

‘My guest today needs no introduction. As the winner of not just one, but two Nobel prizes, Professor Sir John Savage’s place in history has been assured. But as the incredible cure-all benefits of his red pill wing their way around the world, might there be more to this man than meets the eye? So, come on, professor – what else have you got brewing in that laboratory of yours?’

‘Three’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘Three Nobel prizes. My PA informed me of another missive this morning, so one can only assume either Physics or Peace has just joined my previous awards of Medicine and Chemistry.’

‘Er, then congratulations on being the first person to be awarded three Nobel prizes! Physics rather than peace though, surely?’

‘Why?’

‘Well, incredible medical cures aside, your methods are not without controversy. The testing of drugs on animals alone has made you a target to some, and what about the patients who died during the trials?’

‘An unfortunate necessity. Nothing truly worthwhile was ever achieved without sacrifice.’

‘Sacrifice? Professor, does it ever occur to you it’s statements like that which make you appear colder than the iceberg that sank the Titanic?’

‘I’m not here to win friends. The healing of the sick and curing of the lame will be my legacy. I’m no different to Jesus, really.’

‘And likening yourself to a messiah won’t do you any favours either. You do realise many would consider Doctor Frankenstein to be a better comparison? Sounds like you need to take a dose of your own medicine – does the red pill cure narcissism as well as schizophrenia?’

‘Physician heal thyself, perhaps? What makes you think I haven’t?’

‘Ah! So the rumours were right – the red pill does do more than correct everything from angina to Zika.’

‘The red pill is capable of a great many things and, once the results of my latest trial have cleared the necessary ethical hurdles, the world will soon be clamouring to take advantage of it.’

‘Well, go on, professor. Don’t leave us in suspense.’

‘Imagine waking up one morning with the ability to do anything. Climb Mount Everest or go to the Moon? You can. Be the President of the United States or score the winning touchdown in the last second of the Super Bowl? You can. Or how about being a super athlete, soldier or hero? Very soon we’ll all be able to do absolutely anything.’

‘I hate to be the first to break the news to you, professor, but while you’ve been busy with test tubes the rest of us have been doing that with virtual reality.’

‘Virtual reality? Those clumsy, sick-making devices? I’m talking about real reality.’

‘Real reality? I’ll tell you what’s real, Professor – my wife. She won’t even let me watch the Super Bowl let alone play in it.’

‘Then might I suggest she takes the red pill?’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘The ability to do anything goes well beyond curing the sick, flying into space or climbing the highest mountain. Society’s most difficult challenges are about to be tackled too, and ensuring your domestic bliss is as good a start as any.’

‘Are you suggesting my wife could be made to enjoy the Super Bowl? That’s brainwashing!’

‘I’m suggesting your wife might enjoy being able to view the world differently, that’s all. An epiphany if you like. Think of it as a meat eater turning vegetarian, an atheist finding God or vice-versa. Don’t worry, she’ll be just how you remember her. Only better.’

‘They were wrong. You’re not Frankenstein – you’re the monster he created.’

‘I can understand how my methods might seem unsettling to some, but once domestic bliss has spread throughout the world, I think minds will change – with or without the red pill.’

‘Ha! So you’re saying brainwashing is going to bring world peace? You’ll be lucky not be killed in the rush to get to you.’

‘Well, let’s just say I’m expecting my PA to announce another missive in the not too distant future. You will remember to congratulate me on being awarded a fourth Nobel Prize, won’t you?’

 

Read The Condition Trilogy to find out why the professor’s unsettling ideas might be closer to reality than you think…