Everyone wants wisdom and wealth. Nevertheless, our health often gives out before we achieve them. To lengthen our lives, and improve our minds, in the future we will need to change our our bodies and brains. To that end, we first must consider how normal Darwinian evolution brought us to where we are. Then we must imagine ways in which future replacements for worn body parts might solve most problems of failing health. We must then invent strategies to augment our brains and gain greater wisdom. Eventually we will entirely replace our brains -- using nanotechnology. Once delivered from the limitations of biology, we will be able to decide the length of our lives--with the option of immortality-- and choose among other, unimagined capabilities as well.
In such a future, attaining wealth will not be a problem; the trouble will be in controlling it. Obviously, such changes are difficult to envision, and many thinkers still argue that these advances are impossible--particularly in the domain of artificial intelligence. But the sciences needed to enact this transition are already in the making, and it is time to consider what this new world will be like.
Why are our life spans so limited? The answer is simple: Natural selection favors the genes of those with the most descendants. Those numbers tend to grow exponentially with the number of generations--and so this favors the genes of those who reproduce at earlier ages. Evolution does not usually favor genes that lengthen lives beyond that amount adults need to care for their young. Indeed, it may even favor offspring who do not have to compete with living parents. Such competition could promote the accumulation of genes that cause death.
For example, after spawning, the Mediterranean octopus (O. Hummelincki) promptly stops eating and starves to death. If we remove a certain gland though, the octopus continues to eat, and lives twice as long. Many other animals are programmed to die soon after they cease reproducing. Exceptions to this include those long-lived animals, like ourselves and the elephants, whose progeny learn so much from the social transmission of accumulated knowledge.
We humans appear to be the longest lived warm-blooded animals. What selective pressure might have led to our present longevity which is almost twice that of our other primate relatives? This is related to wisdom! Among all mammals, our infants are the most poorly equipped to survive by themselves. Perhaps we needed not only parents, but grandparents too, to care for us and to pass on precious survival tips.
Even with such advice, there are many causes of mortality to which we might succumb. Some deaths result from infections. Our immune systems have evolved versatile ways to deal with most such diseases. Unhappily though, those very same immune systems often injure us by treating various parts of ourselves as though they, too, were infectious invaders. This blindness leads to diseases such as diabetes, multiple sclerosis, rheumatoid arthritis, and many others.
We are also subject to injuries that our bodies cannot repair. Namely, accidents, dietary imbalances, chemical poisons, heat, radiation, and sundry other influences can deform or chemically alter the molecules inside our cells so that they are unable to function. Some of these errors get corrected by replacing defective molecules. However, when the replacement rate is too slow, errors accumulate. For example, when the proteins of the eyes' lenses lose their elasticity, we lose our ability to focus and need bifocal spectacles--one of Franklin's inventions.
The major causes of death result from the effects of inherited genes. These genes include those that seem to be largely responsible for heart disease and cancer, the two largest causes of mortality, as well as countless other disorders such as cystic fibrosis and sickle cell anemia. New technologies should be able to prevent some of these disorders by finding ways to replace those genes.
Perhaps worst of all, we suffer from defects inherent in how our genetic system works. The relationship between genes and cells is exceedingly indirect; there are no blueprints or maps to guide our genes as they build or rebuild the body. As we learn more about our genes, we will hopefully be able to correct, or at least postpone many conditions that still plague our later years.
Most likely, eventual> senescence is inevitable in all biological organisms. To be sure, certain species (including some varieties of fish, tortoises, and lobsters) do not appear to show any systematic increase of mortality rate with age. These animals seem to die mainly from external causes, such as predators or a lack of food. Still, we have no records of animals that have lived for as long as 200 years-- although this does not prove that none exist. Walford and many others believe that a carefully designed diet, one seriously restricted in calories, can significantly increase a human¹s life span--but cannot prevent our ultimate death.
The problem is that our genetic systems were not designed for very long-term maintainance. The relationship between genes and cells is exceedingly indirect; there are no blueprints or maps to guide our genes as they build or rebuild the body. To repair defects on larger scales, a body would need some sort of catalogue that specified which types of cells should be located where. In computer programs it is easy to install such redundancy. Many computers maintain unused copies of their most critical "system" programs, and routinely check their integrity. However, no animals have evolved like schemes, presumably because such algorithms cannot develop through natural selection. The trouble is that error correction then would stop mutation--which would ultimately slow the rate of evolution of an animal's descendants so much that they would be unable to adapt to changes in their environments.
Could we live for several centuries simply by changing some number of genes? After all, we now differ from our evolutionary relatives, the gorillas and chimpanzees, by only a few thousand genes--and yet we live almost twice as long. If we assume that only a small fraction of those new genes caused that increase in life span, then perhaps no more than a hundred or so of those genes were involved. Still, even if this turned out to be true, it would not guarantee that we could gain another century by changing another hundred genes. We might need to change only a few of them--or we might have to change a good many more.
Making new genes and installing them is slowly becoming feasible. But we are already exploiting another approach to combat biological wear and tear: replacing each organ that threatens to fail with a biological or artificial substitute. Some replacements are already routine. Others are on the horizon. Hearts are merely clever pumps. Muscles and bones are motors and beams. Digestive systems are chemical reactors. Eventually, we will solve the problems associated with transplanting or replacing all of these parts.
When we consider replacing a brain though, a transplant will not work. You cannot simply exchange your brain for another and remain the same person. You would lose the knowledge and the processes that constitute your identity. Nevertheless, we might be able to replace certain worn out parts of brains by transplanting tissue-cultured fetal cells. This procedure would not restore lost knowledge --but that might not matter as much as it seems. We probably store each fragment of knowledge in several different places, in different forms. New parts of the brain could be retrained and reintegrated with the rest -- and some of that might even happen spontaneously.
Why is our wisdom so limited? Is it because we do not have the time to learn very much, or that we lack enough capacity? Is it because, as in popular legend, we use only a fraction of our brains? Could better education help? Of course, but only to a point. Even our best prodigies learn no more than twice as quickly as the rest. Everything takes us too long to learn because our brains are so terribly slow. It would certainly help to have more time, but longevity is not enough. The brain, like other finite things, must reach some limits to what it can learn. We don't know what those limits are; perhaps our brains could keep learning for several more centuries. Ultimately, though, we will need to increase their capacity.
The more we learn about our brains, the more ways we will find to improve them. Each brain has hundreds of specialized regions. We know only a little about what each one does -- but as soon as we find out how any one part works, researchers will try to devise ways to extend that organ's capacity. They will also conceive of entirely new abilities that biology has never provided. As these inventions accumulate, we'll try to connect them to our brains -- perhaps through millions of microscopic electrodes inserted into the great nerve-bundle called the corpus callosum, the largest data-bus in the brain. With further advances, no part of the brain will be out of bounds for attaching new accessories. In the end, we will find ways to replace every part of the body and brain--and thus repair all the defects and flaws that make our lives so brief.
Needless to say, in doing so, we'll be making ourselves into machines.
Does this mean that machines will replace us? I don't feel that it makes much sense to think in terms of "us" and "them." I much prefer the attitude of Hans Moravec of Carnegie-Mellon University, who suggests that we think of those future intelligent machines as our own "mind- children."
In the past, we have tended to see ourselves as a final product of evolution -- but our evolution has not ceased. Indeed, we are now evolving more rapidly--although not in the familiar, slow Darwinian way. It is time that we started to think about our new emerging identities. We now can design systems based on new kinds of "unnatural selection" that can exploit explicit plans and goals, and can also exploit the inheritance of acquired characteristics. It took a century for evolutionists to train themselves to avoid such ideas--biologists call them 'teleological' and Lamarckian'- -but now we may have to change those rules!
Fortunately, we would not need to know every minute detail. If that were so, our brains wouldn't work in the first place. In biological organisms, generally each system has evolved to be insensitive to most details of what goes on in the smaller subsystems on which it depends. Therefore, to copy a functional brain, it should suffice to replicate just enough of the function of each part to produce its important effects on other parts.
Suppose that we wanted to copy a machine, such as a brain, that contained a trillion components. Today we could not do such a thing (even were we equipped with the necessary knowledge) if we had to build each component separately. However, if we had a million construction machines that could each build a thousand parts per second, our task would take only minutes. In the decades to come, new fabrication machines will make this possible. Most present-day manufacturing is based on shaping bulk materials. In contrast, the field called 'nanotechnology' aims to build materials and machinery by placing each atom and molecule precisely where we want it.
By such methods, we could make truly identical parts--and thus escape from the randomness that hinders conventionally made machines. Today, for example, when we try to etch very small circuits, the sizes of the wires vary so much that we cannot predict their electrical properties. However, if we can locate each atom exactly, then those wires will be indistinguishable. This would lead to new kinds of materials that current techniques could never make; we could endow them with enormous strength, or novel quantum properties. These products in turn will lead to computers as small as synapses, having unparalleled speed and efficiency.
Once we can use these techniques to construct a general-purpose assembly machine that operates on atomic scales, further progress should be swift. If it took one week for such a machine to make a copy of itself, then we could have a billion copies in less than a year.
These devices would transform our world. For example, we could program them to fabricate efficient solar energy collecting devices and apply these to nearby surfaces, so that they could power themselves. In this way, we could grow fields of micro-factories in much the same way that we now grow trees. In such a future, we will have little trouble attaining wealth, but rather in learning how to control it. In particular, we must always take care when dealing with things (such as ourselves) that might be able to reproduce themselves.
Although these experiments do not much resemble what we do in real life, we do not have any hard evidence that people can learn more quickly. Despite those popular legends about people with 'photographic memories,' no one seems to have mastered, word for word, the contents of as few as one hundred books--or of a single major encyclopedia. The complete works of Shakespeare come to about 130 million bits. Landauer's limit implies that a person would need at least four years to memorize them. We have no well-founded estimates of how much information we require to perform skills such as painting or skiing, but I don't see any reason why these activities shouldn't be similarly limited.
The brain is believed to contain the order of
a hundred trillion synapses--which should leave plenty of room for those
few billion bits of reproducible memories. Someday though it should be
feasible to build that much storage space into a package as small as a
pea, using nanotechnology. ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,