The Brain at the End of Your Arm
People have mixed opinions about Elon Musk. Shrewd genius? Heartless idiot? Regardless what he stirs up in people, it’s hard to deny he thinks big and has his footprint in a lot of doo— um, projects. One of his companies is Neuralink, a developer of an implantable brain interface. From the Neuralink website: “We’re aiming to design a fully implantable, cosmetically invisible brain-computer interface to let you control a computer or mobile device anywhere you go.”
Essentially (my understanding is) the device will be a cluster of miniscule computer bits placed out of sight under the skin and wired to the brain. Is this the stuff of science fiction, or what? Oh what a time to be alive!! Used for its highest purpose, this technology is said to offer a long-awaited science backed approach to treating people with brain injuries, like those with paralysis. There’s no question that it would give hope to so many, an answer to prayers. Invariably my thoughts flip to the implications for Neuralink technology’s shadow and I know it’s a Pandora’s Box. Once opened, might it unleash potential uses that are not so benevolent? The implications bring up an array of emotion… fascination, fear, a shapeshifting stirring of activity somewhere in the “gray” matter of my brain that simultaneously evokes excitement and extreme discomfort. Could it be used to wire us directly to Google?
I like to think I understand a thing or two about my brain as it relates to forming thoughts based on my personal belief system. I wonder then… what belief am I attached to that makes me resistant to a future world populated with computerized brains? I sense a relentless chattering in the background like a cautionary tale. The future is generally faster than we acknowledge, while quickly developing dramatic change can be wholly unsettling. Will we adapt successfully? Or might it cause yet another reason to divide us, a rift between the early adapters of this type of tech, and the more reserved skeptics, the haves and have nots, the older and younger generations?
After initially reading about Neuralink, I stashed it somewhere in my overtaxed memory (“overtaxed,” because I tend to hoard these compelling nougats like a merry homeowner who can always find room in the yard for one more holiday themed inflatable). I saw something online that made me stop mid-breath. A less invasive counterpart of this futuristic device already exists; Neuralink is just pushing a boundary in the process by relocateing the powerful interface to the brain from where it currently resides… at the end of one’s arm. I understood the implication immediately in a personal way.
On any given day, I think of a dozen questions that harass me for immediate answers. Often the “answers” lead to more questions, baiting me to search for additional info. What do I do? I google. My phone is rarely more than an arm’s length away and I am guilty of stopping in the middle of an activity or project to pick it up and type into the search bar. I know I’m not alone in this newest of cultural addictions, the dire need for information. I’ve never been addicted to a consumable before, but I imagine this is how it starts. First you enjoy the power you have in your hand; then a deep satisfaction comes with a dopamine hit when your answers are delivered in seconds. For me, I have the added lure of being recognized by others for my prowess with search terms. I can turn up a perfect result with accuracy and speed; it’s like my superpower and the random complements buoy me. I daydream about advertising my skill on a T-shirt. “I Google Better Than You.” It’s funny until it dawns on me that information is my drug; not exactly something to be proud of. I’ve been blessed with an inquisitive brain, but the curse is my never-ending loop of questions. I’m like an annoying 4 year old who keeps asking, “But why?” after every answer.
My addiction revealed itself to me recently, when I saw how automatically I do it. Only after reading the article about the computer interface relocating from hand to head did I comprehend my behavior. With awareness, I began noticing how my phone would be in my hand and I’d be tapping the screen before I had the conscious intention to do it. Subconsciously my environment sent an impulse, my brain formed a question, and the neuropathways lit up as my hand reached for the phone and began typing. Bingo. An extension of my brain - or as Neuralink labels it, “a brain-computer interface” - already exists and it resides in my hand. Future generations of Neuralink technology may evolve the pocess another few steps and cosmetically bury an Internet connection under the skin. And instead of having to think about the magic combination of terms to yield perfect search results, one will only need to think of a few words, and I imagine a very sophisticated algorithm will launch, delivering the “perfect” result, no prowess or superpower required. And all without realizing it’s happening.
Who writes these algorithms? (There I go again - a whole other Pandora’s box.) Who decides what results I see? Artificial Intelligence and machine learning teaches itself, no human needed. These are the thoughts that keep me tossing at night; and also the motivation to meditate daily, sans technology.
We still have free will. We might do well to hone it. Once we trade it away, will humanity lose the very thing that makes us human?
