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    "It's all to play for" - with Chris Anderson at TED

    With Chris Anderson at TED

    I’ve spent the last year being assailed by new ideas and ways of seeing the world at an unprecedented (for me) rate. The coming revolution in personal genomics, the project to create artificial life, the Transhumanists’ journey to ‘transcend our biology’, robots that get mood swings, machines that demonstrate curiosity, a post-scarcity world promised by atomically precise manufacture, holidays in space and our continued entanglement with the world’s biggest machine (the Internet). All of these are to one degree and another coming down the line, as long as the Maldives (and the rest of us) can stay above water, using our technologies and ingenuity to remove carbon-dioxide from our atmosphere (while simultaneously ushering in an energy revolution). I’ve met scientists, philosophers, gone diving with a president and invented a cocktail on the way. Now as I approach the end of my journey I’m looking for people who can help me make sense of it, to somehow pull all these strands together into a coherent view.

    In his book Engines of Creation: The Coming Era of Nanotechnology Eric Drexler approaches the future by asking three questions – what is possible? what is achievable? and what is desirable? The question of what is possible seems easy to answer. As we learn to control the very atoms of matter, the mechanisms of biology and the power of computation there is, in fact, very little that we can’t do, in a physical (and indeed virtual sense). Solutions to climate change? Already developed. An end to the energy crisis? No sweat, sign on the line. Holiday in space? Why not, join our frequent flyer progamme. World peace even? Seems only reasonable.

    But when we ask what is achievable, well that’s a different story. Because what we achieve will largely be determined by what we collectively decide is desirable. As George Church told me all those months ago at Harvard Medical School as we discussed personal genomics, “The only thing that puts this kind of medicine far away is really will, right? The question is, how motivated are we?” Do we, as a planet, have the will to take the bounty on offer while mitigating the risks? To get the medicine but not the weapons? To enjoy abundant clean energy while dealing with climate change? To use our technologies to bring us closer together, rather than isolate us?

    It’s to ponder questions like these that I’ve come to meet Chris Anderson, the CEO of the TED Talks, the pre-eminent meeting of, as Chris puts it, “people who can offer a lens through which to see the world in a different way.” Every year Chris and his team gather together the world’s leading thinkers from every discipline and give them 18 minutes to tell the rest of the world how they see things. The results can be found on TED.com. Here you can see Ray Kurzweil summarise his law of accelerating returns, or Kevin Kelly talk about his idea of ‘The One Machine’ that the internet will become, or Hod Lipson demonstrate his robots (along with a host of other mind-shifting presentations that make you see things from a different angle). TED tells a different story of our world than the one we’re used to seeing, and it’s the same story I’ve seen on my travels. There is no shortage of fresh ways to see our future. It turns out we’re not necessarily looking at a damage limitation exercise, but a possible renaissance. But first we have to see it. Only then can we have to make it happen.

    Seeing it is a revelation. We’re so used to being told that everything is getting worse, that the planet is doomed or that the next pandemic to finish you off is just around the corner, or that technology will subjugate us. It’s a world where a book called Is it me or is everything a bit shit? becomes a best seller. And it’s not true. Or at least it doesn’t have to be. Klaus Lackner has a machine, that works now, that takes CO2 out the air. George Church has co-developed a process that can take that CO2, mix is with sunlight for pity’s sake! and create gasoline. Thin film solar technologies will soon take power to where there is no grid, while at the same time mobile devices will continue to take the world’s knowledge (accessed on billions of mobile devices) to every corner of the globe. Solar power continues to show exponential rises in efficiency while nanotechnology is already changing the face of manufacturing and will continue to do so. Medicine may soon see an end to a host of the things that kill us. This story is not being told, which is perhaps the biggest threat to our future. Not that it couldn’t be better, but that because we can’t see it, we don’t know it’s an option.

    “The history of ideas is a really thrilling history,” says Chris, “and ultimately that is what will drive all of our futures. There’s a very boring view of the world which is that ‘things happen’ and you can’t really do much about it.” It’s something he’s experienced himself. “After I left university I became a journalist, then I started a company… and then fifteen years were taken over by all the stress of working. I didn’t have much spare time to think. When the whole ‘dot com’ bust happened the huge gift I got was discovering, holy crap, there’s so much amazing new thinking out there.” I know what he means. Before I decided I actually wanted to answer the question “what next?” I was on the same treadmill, too busy to look up to realise that the story we’re told wasn’t necessarily the only game in town. This book didn’t start off with the word ‘Optimist’ in the title. It was my agent Charlie, who when I told him the sort of thing I was finding out, remarked on how uplifting some of it was and suggested the change.

    We communicate through stories. It is stories that grab us the most and it stories we identify with. Hollywood knows this, political spin doctors know this, newspaper editors know this. “What the story?!” ask editors pointedly when young journalists bring well written pieces that lack a narrative. My own editors were keen to make sure this book had a personal story, and encouraged me to make sure it wasn’t lost in the rush of facts. Chris is very interested in stories, and how the Internet, as it continues its prodigious growth across the globe, can help us, for the first time, tell a story that includes everyone.

    The most memorable thing for Chris about the 2009 TED conference was a dance troupe called The Legion of Extraordinary Dancers. “This troop could not have existed ten years ago. They exist because kids who used to just dance down on the street corner started filming themselves, putting it up on YouTube and suddenly the community that they’re comparing themselves to is a global community. This kid in Tokyo sees a move from Detroit and innovates within hours, puts it online and so on, so the pace of innovation is dramatically increased.” John Chu, who created the troupe from finding the most popular of those YouTube clips says, “Dance has never had a better friend than technology. Online videos and social networking have created a whole global laboratory online for dance.” It’s not just in dance. “This is happening in hundreds of areas of human endeavour,” says Chris. “I’ve started to call it ‘crowd accelerated innovation’ and I find it incredibly exciting.”

    Chris thinks rather than letting go of our humanity, we are re-discovering it. What could be more human than the Legion of Extraordinary Dancers? Kids from diverse backgrounds from across the world, innovating and collaborating to bring a new dimension to an art form as old as society, using technology to help them express themselves and innovate physically with their bodies, to meet, to collaborate, to just dance – and then show the world. Look what we did. Here is something of the exponential growth in wisdom, community, understanding I was looking for to go with Ray Kurzweil’s accelerating technologies.

    “The acceleration of knowledge and ideas made possible by the fact that humanity is connected for the first time is vast,” says Chris. “The re-discovery of the spoken word as a tool for communicating is a big deal. If you think about it we evolved as human-to-human communicators. It was the village camp fire, the elder standing there with his painted face on a starry night, fire crackling, drums beating and telling a story and every eye locked on his and all those mirror-neurons in all those brains syncing up with what he was saying. By the end of this story his whole village would go to war against another village or make peace.”

    “So TED is one of the new storytellers?” I ask

    “It’s one of them. That mode of communication kind of got lost in the print age because it didn’t scale, it was a village-sized technology at best. To me it’s thrilling that it now scales and so one great teacher can inspire many people. One of the things that we see as our role is to try and help nurture that process of re-discovering how to do that, because I think we got to a place where lessons became a person in suit mumbling behind a lectern reading their notes for an hour while a class of people snoozed.” Suddenly, horrifying images of my ‘O’ level economics class come pouring into my brain. I shudder. “It shouldn’t be like that,” says Chris. “So, one of things we see, and this was a big kick for me, is TED speakers competing. An unexpected consequence of putting this stuff online is speakers are looking at what other speakers are doing and are putting in far more preparation time than they ever used to.”

    Just as YouTube became a laboratory for dance, TED is becoming a laboratory for the art of oration. Here you will see a statistician blow your mind and end his talk with some sword swallowing. Here you will find Steven Pinker explain that the world is getting safer, and Robert Wright mix philosophy, sociology and stand-up comedy to give one explanation as to why – a theory he calls ‘the non-zero sum game’. I don’t know about you, but that’s the kind of lesson I can get on board with.

    “We’ve actually got to bring back real creativity and find a way of nurturing that in the education process,” says Chris. “In the age of Google the notion of having to cram all these little brains with facts is bonkers. What’s needed is to build skills like how do you stimulate people to ask the right questions? how do you stimulate people to have a meaningful conversation? to think critically? What are lenses you give people to think about the world? I mean, if I’d have been taught Robert Wright’s non-zero view of history that would have had tremendously more value to me than endless facts about French kings.” It seems that the two things Artificial Intelligence needs the most if it’s ever to stop playing chess and start playing Madlibs, are the two things we need the most too: curiosity and creativity.

    What is our collective story today and who tells it? The storytellers of our day-to-day lives used to be the press and our politicians. Like all good storytellers they used emotion to hook us into one of two, on the face of it, very uninspiring, dull stories. Story one: life happens to you, the future is not going to be very good (especially if you vote for that guy), it was better in the old days, you’ve got to look after yourself, the world is violent and unsafe, your job is at risk, the generation below you are feral and dangerous, things are changing too fast and you can’t trust those immigrants/ scientists/ left-wingers/ right-wingers/ nerds/ geeks/ religious people/ atheists/ football fans/ the rich/ the poor/ what you eat/ your neighbour. You are alone. Make the best of it. Vote for me. Buy my paper. I understand. (Story two is, in summary: ‘Shock! People have sex.’)

    It’s hardly inspiring is it?

    But the story is beginning to be told by other people now, by the Legion of Extraordinary Dancers, by speakers at TED talks, by Mohamed Nasheed who battled dictatorship to the brink of his own death and then got on with battling climate change, by Cynthia Breazeal who wants to build robots that help children learn, by Vicki Buck who quit government to create jobs to take on global warming, by George Church who wants you to stay healthy longer, by Eric Drexler who wants to usher in a post-scarcity world using technology on the nanoscale, by the good people at Konarka who take electricity out the sky and give to the developing world. A story being told by the curious and the smart, that inspires the curious and the smart in all of us, by people who wonder and ask the kind of questions that haven’t been asked before. Crucially, none of them wait for permission to ask those questions, or then to find the answers. It is being told through writers who find themselves traveling across America and readers of blogs who might say in the pub, “did you know the technology exists to make petrol out of the air?” It is being told by the cult of the possible, who seek to achieve, to bring us what we desire. Peace. Understanding. Space to love each other. People who encourage us to evolve.

    Eric Drexler has written, “As the Web becomes more comprehensive and searchable, it helps us see what’s missing in the world. The emergence of more effective ways to detect the absence of a piece of knowledge is a subtle and slowly emerging contribution of the Web, yet important to the growth of human knowledge.”

    I think we’re beginning to see, collectively, what’s missing, and crucially we’re now able to do something about it. Technology doesn’t give you permission like your teachers did. It gives you agency – to ask, to learn, to connect, to do. It says, “go on then, show me what you’ve got”.

    “I don’t know that the future’s going to be better,” says Chris. “But I think there’s a very good chance that it will be and I think that’s something that everyone can do to further increase that chance. There are several quite profound and inspiring ways of thinking about the world that suggest there are these trends that have the potential to drive a better future and I think there is such a thing as moral progress, driven not by any difference in the DNA kids are born with, but just driven by what they see, and seeing more of humanity just naturally flicks on certain switches that make people more empathetic. Of course, the future might well be truly horrible. I think it’s all to play for and I think everyone of sound mind and conscience should be in the game, trying to shape it in the right way. It’s a very false and shallow view of history to say that it’s just one thing after another. Ultimately though our history is the history of ideas. It’s a really thrilling history and ultimately that is what will drive all of our futures.”

    Ideas, creativity, curiosity – and dancing. Now there’s a mix.

    More of my talk with Chris, will of course, make it into the book…

  • September16th

    7 Comments

    juan enriquez

    It’s a rollercoaster. Today I meet Juan Enriquez, described by himself as a ‘quasi-catholic in a Jesuit tradition’ and as a ‘renaissance futurist’ by his wife (whom I’m lucky enough to meet later). To be honest it’s hard to pigeon-hole Juan. His CV includes ‘peace negotiator’, ‘Harvard professor’, ‘urban development Tsar’ and ‘biotech investor’. During our conversation he says, “there’s only two things that matter: Nike and Nissan”. This strikes me as rather a trivial observation for one of America’s leading thinkers. He explains: ‘Just Do It and Enjoy the Ride’.

    He’s a surprisingly reserved and gentle man in person, for someone who says quite remarkable and often strikingly important things. Voted best teacher at Harvard he’s regularly called upon to speak on how the future might pan out. This year he opened the mighty TED talks. His address was typically powerful, thought-provoking and very funny. He has an ability to synthesise and distil difficult and interweaved concepts into something you can get hold of. His book As the Future Catches You is one of the best attempts to make sense of how biology and silicon are combining in extraordinary ways and is an essential read (I think that’s the first book I’ve ever said that about). It’ll take you two hours. “It started off as 3,000 pages and took me six years to condense,” he tells me, reminding me of one of my favourite quotes, from George Bernard Shaw, who once wrote to a friend, “Sorry I wrote a long letter, I did not have time to write a short one”. You can see some of the themes in it discussed in this TED talk:

    Juan describes his life as “a series of strange accidents”. ‘Strange accidents’ is rather a self-effacing way of describing an impressively eclectic powerhouse of a CV. Those “accidents” arguably started rolling off the conveyor belt when as a young man living in Mexico Juan walked into his parent’s room and said, ‘I’m not learning enough here, so I’m going to go to school in the US’. “I applied late, I had no idea it was hard to get into these places and even though I spoke English (my mother’s American) I’d never studied and written in English. I have no idea why I was admitted. I mean during the admission exam I was asked to write a paragraph and I asked ‘what’s a paragraph?’. I had no idea.”

    He describes feeling “utterly stupid” for his first semester but obviously caught up fast and maintained that accelerated intellectual velocity, being admitted to Harvard to study Government and Economics, after which he returned home to ‘change Mexico’ – a childhood ambition borne out a belief that his home nation too readily disadvantaged those not in the ruling class. “I always thought I would work in and change Mexico. I was bothered by the poverty I saw there.” He became the youngest Budget Director ever (in the Ministry of Planning and Budget), then returned to Harvard before being offered “a dream job” back in Mexico as head of the Urban development Corporation. So far, so impressive (especially when you consider that during his time in Mexico Juan was also part of the team that negotiated peace with the Chiapas Indians). And then Juan discovered something more important. A revolution that would not only affect Mexico but the entire world. And all because of some lonely looking geeky guy at a New Year’s Eve party.

    “I’m at a New Years party and there’s this guy is sitting over on a corner table by himself and I think ‘poor bastard, it’s New Years’ and I walk over and sit down and talk to him for the rest of the night. By the end of the evening we decided to sail across the Atlantic together in 2 weeks. By the end of that trip I had decided that I was going to change my entire career and learn biology.”

    The guy in question was a young Craig Venter, who went from being an obscure scientist to sequencing the first human genome. Juan recalls, “That conversation was so interesting, all of a sudden I thought ‘I want to leant about this.’ I wondered, who gets affected by this stuff? What does it do? What does it matter?” In fact, Juan was so interested in these questions, he set up the Life Sciences Project at Harvard Business School.

    "Poor bastard" - Juan Enriquez

    "Poor bastard" - Juan Enriquez

    In As the Future Catches You Juan writes:

    “Your future, that of your children, and that of your country depend on understanding a global economy driven by technology. Understanding code, particularly genetic code, is today’s most powerful technology”.

    We talk about this in the context of a society that actually doesn’t seem to be engaging with the implications of the genomics revolution (as I wasn’t before researching my own book). Juan says, “I worry that if you’re not educated in this stuff, you’re toast.” He’s very clear that new technologies quickly change the fate of nations, especially as knowledge becomes ever more accessible.

    “You don’t have to own a large piece of land or a lot of resources to get rich very quickly, but you do need to go to school. That didn’t use to be true. It used to be that it didn’t matter how smart you were, if you weren’t the king or part of the noble classes you were toast” (Juan likes the word ‘toast’).

    “Now you can get wealthy, and you can do it very quickly, but you have to do it through education. You see, the consequences of not being educated today are far different from what they were. You know, in the 1950s you had a high school diploma, you went to Detroit you did fine. That’s not true anymore.” So, it’s no pleasure for Juan to recount a meeting he attended along with the governor of Michigan three years ago with GM workers, where “60% didn’t consider it necessary for their kids to go to college. There are consequences of that decision.”

    Don't become this - go to school

    Don't become this - go to school

    This is one example of what Juan calls an ‘anti-intellectual backlash’. I wonder, given that today more and more people have access to knowledge, why he perceives a rejection of engaging with it, applying it, or understanding it in some quarters? It’s something Mark Bedau talked about when I was in Denmark and it’s something I see too. I call it ‘aspirations to mediocrity’ and it worries me, because if you’re not informed you’re out of the loop, and you can get left behind. And people who get left behind tend to get angry at some point.

    Juan argues that to succeed as a nation, a corporation, an individual you have to be agile, to adapt. “It took me a damn long time to figure out. It’s Darwin. It’s the ability to adapt and adopt. It’s not the most powerful who survive, it those who best adapt to change.”

    “In the US there’s powerful anti-intellectual tradition that battles against the aspirations of the founding fathers. One of the most important things that people keep forgetting about America and the reason why I think America became truly a world power is because so many of the founders were adamant about education and science. Just look at Franklin, or Jefferson and you’ll see people deeply committed to critical thinking and education. There was a huge tradition of science and technology education, freedom of inquiry and that’s powered this country in an extraordinary way. But there’s a backlash to that.”

    Juan believes the backlash is born of (reasonable) fear. “If you look at and a lot of the things that we’re building, they’re scary as hell to some people. You talk about programming cells or sentient robots or evolution of the species using technology – that is profoundly disturbing to some people because this stuff is very powerful. It upends industries, it changes how long we live, it changes what our kids may look like. I look at that stuff and say, ‘OK, it allows people who couldn’t have children to have children. We’re going to do away with some of the diseases, and so on’. Other people look at that in absolute horror. They say, ‘Stop the world. This isn’t natural. This isn’t what God ordered. I want to get off.’ They’re looking for an element of stability and certainty. This desire tends to manifest most during the periods of fastest change, like now. You want something to hold on to. And if you’re not part of that ride, if you don’t think you can play in that game then you get this anti-intellectual counterpoint.”

    Hello creationism.

    It strikes me that maybe one of the implicit drivers behind the creationism renaissance is so profound a fear of the possibility of us deliberately evolving into something else (Juan dubs this next technology-enhanced hominid homo evolutis) that one line of defence is to deny evolution’s central role in the world. In the Edge Foundation’s lovely book What are you optimistic about? Juan wrote an essay in which he said that our change as a species “will involve an ever-faster accumulation of small, useful improvements that eventually turn homo sapiens into a new hominid. We will likely see glimpses of this long-lived, partly mechanical, partly regrown creature that continues to rapidly drive its own evolution. …many of our grandchildren will likely engineer themselves into what we would consider a new species, one with extraordinary capabilities”. Intelligent design indeed. If you’re religious (or even if you’re not) it’s no surprise that the ‘Man playing God’ argument is strongly attractive. It’s a worry for a lot of people, and, I’d say, not an unreasonable one.

    Juan isn’t worried about our self-directed evolution. “The notion of evolving into something else is terrifying until you consider the question ‘Are Russ Limbaugh and Howard Stern the be all and end all of evolution?’ If that’s all she wrote, then I’m scared. I look at this stuff and say, ‘if my kids could live 200 years with a good quality of life, if they could see a lot further than I could, if the could re-grow their joints, if they can hear a lot better than I can, if they could have brains that were 50 times as powerful as mine? Good for them. Cool. I’d rather things carry on.’ ”

    Evolutionary work-in-progress 1

    Evolutionary work-in-progress 1

    Evolutionary work-in-progress 2

    Evolutionary work-in-progress 2

    But can our moral frameworks keep up? (Einstein famously said “It has become appallingly obvious that out technology has exceeded our humanity”.) Juan has an interesting observation. “To me religion looks like an evolutionary tree. Every civilisation has to a greater or lesser extent some religious moral background. There has to be some evolutionary advantage to having that kind of moral backbone and that kind of belief system, and I think it’s because it traces how you move from a hunter-gatherer society, where everybody knows each other and watches each other all day, into a town, into a city, into an empire… And just like most animals almost every religion and God has gone extinct. The interesting question is which ones survive and how do they survive and how do those moral backbones evolve? And what does a moral ethical background look like, should you start to speciate, should you start to alter fundamental characteristics of what we consider human?”

    One thing history has taught us is that knowledge advances no matter how hard you try to suppress it. As Septimus Hodge says in Tom Stoppard’s Arcadia “You do not suppose, my lady, that if all of Archimedes had been hiding in the great library of Alexandria, we would be at a loss for a corkscrew?” You can stop knowledge’s advance in some places for a while if you’re brutally draconian or conservative but not for long – and the more technology allows autonomy of the individual (from wireless internet access to the world’s knowledge, to power independence through solar technology) the harder it becomes to suppress the spirit of enquiry that characterises enough of the human race to ensure that the growth of knowledge marches on. It’s harder to stop people discovering stuff when we aim to give a laptop to every child. “When you start putting every MIT course online, when kids start having access to TED talks…” Juan looks into space. “You know, knowledge is the great equaliser”. Knowledge is growing exponentially, and for those who want to engage, access to it is becoming easier.

    I return to my current preoccupation – what moral frameworks are useful in this ever changing world? Well, if we take the evolutionary argument, it’s the ones that adapt and adopt. Those belief systems that are agile enough to keep us kind while embracing change are likely to prevail. If there is an evolutionary advantage to having a moral set of beliefs or a God that embodies them then you can’t keep your God static. Your God better evolve with you. This, I think, doesn’t mean watering down the essential need for compassion, it means helping us work out how to continually keep it central to what we do in a rapidly changing world. This is why Karen Armstrong’s ‘Charter for Compassion’ is so interesting.

    The future won’t be a smooth ride. “Things evolve at different times at different paces, people make different choices and that’s one of the reason countries disappear so often. There really are consequences to your choices. If you choose to shut your doors and not follow technology you will vapourise your sovereignty. So, there are galactically stupid policies as far as individual countries are concerned. The future of the species worries me a lot less”

    One thing Juan is worried about is what happens to those nations that don’t engage with the knowledge revolution. “There’s going to be a great deal more failed states. That’s bad. I mean there used to a restructuring mechanism for failed states – Genghis Khan would come by and install a government. Today, in a knowledge economy, why would you want to go and take over a failed state?”

    I’d argue that a failed state represents an opportunity, an under-utilised platform of potential human innovation. After all, Singapore was a failed state 50 years ago, an example Juan uses regularly to demonstrate how nations can turn themselves around in short order if they invest in education and knowledge creation. Perhaps it won’t be Genghis Kahn coming by looking for natural resources, perhaps it’ll be Craig Venter or Google looking for untapped smarts. Let’s insist they bring Karen Armstrong with them.

    I’ll leave the interview there – if I covered everything we spoke about I’d be writing the book. There’s a lot of ideas here I’m still not pulling together coherently, but it’s a start and I welcome comment.

    By coincidence my interaction with Juan doesn’t end when I say goodbye to him at his office. I bump into him and his wife – a warm and sociable curator – at the airport, flying to New York to celebrate their anniversary. It’s a rare opportunity to discuss things ‘off topic’ and it’s nice to hear them talk warmly of their children and upcoming birthday celebrations. There’s something deeply comforting about hearing one of the most interesting thinkers on the planet discuss what flavour of birthday cake to get.

    It's not just the future I think about...

    It's not just the future I think about...

    I arrive in New York and make my way to Long Island City, where I’m staying with my friend Colin, a neuroscientist that I once shared a house with in London, and a man equally caressed by doubt and genius. He’s actually in San Diego tonight being courted by a biotech research laboratory so I have his place to myself. The apartment is full of papers with titles like: “Hippocampal CA3 output is crucial for ripple-associated reactivation and consolidation of memory”. What’s different about seeing this sort of thing today as compared to coming across similarly titled documents during the time we lived together is that now I want to pick these things up and understand them. Not tonight though, my mind is full of everything I’ve learned in Boston – I feel like a glass of wine.

    Round the corner from Colin’s I find a great little wine bar called Domaine where I fall into a long conversation with Johanna, a friend of the owners and a fashion designer originally from Peurto Rico. In the end we talk for about 5 hours, drinking fine wine provided by the establishment and cover every subject from religion to politics to art to relationships. It’s just what I need and a perfect New York kind of evening, the city where you can meet just about anyone if you’re willing to start a conversation…

  • September11th

    2 Comments

    Boston13

    Today I meet George Church, professor of genetics at Harvard Medical School, a towering intellect and, as it turns out, a generous, warm and funny guy.

    I’m exhausted before I meet George. I’ve been cramming as much knowledge into my head as I can about the areas he works in. I don’t want to squander my opportunity with one of the fathers of the genetic age. I’m worried that my weariness will affect my concentration during the interview and as I approach 77 Avenue Louis Pasteur I’m almost dead on my feet. I have a splitting headache and feel deeply fatigued. Suddenly travelling, research, a couple of night’s fitful sleep and doing gigs in the evening has caught up with me. Pull it together Mark.

    Despite my tiredness I can’t help but be amused by a sign found all around the Harvard Medical School campus…

    Harvards smoking plan

    Some of the cleverest people on the planet work at Harvard Medical school – but it’s heartening to think that even they may sometimes need some help telling ‘inside’ from ‘outside’. 

    As soon as I sit down with George my tiredness vanishes. We’ve two hours allotted, which is generous given his standing. We talk in the end for four, and get on well. He likes the idea of the book and is a passionate advocate of communicating the implications of the genetic age to wider audiences. I’m a conduit. And really, when it comes to feeling tired, I can hardly complain. George is a narcoleptic.

    Perhaps one of the cornerstones of my book will be trying to convey just how deeply incredible and mind-blowing cells and the genetic apparatus they contain are. We are entering the genetic age where, within my lifetime, I am now convinced children in many nations will have their genome sequenced at birth. In the future you may well be given a user manual for you as your very first birthday present. Your genetic heritage and its implications will be accessible to you.

    If like me, you’ve heard the words ‘gene’, ‘genome’ and ‘DNA’ a lot, but not really understood the implications then you’re in for a shock. A good one I think. As I researched deeper into the subject I had numerous ‘Bugger me!’ moments.

    Imagine if you will that someone plonked a computer into the middle of a society that had never seen one. Imagine they start to examine it, first understanding and making sense of the different components parts, until after long years of study they discover that patterns of material they’ve found at various places throughout the computer are code. Sets of instructions. Then they learn to decipher the code. They can read it. Then they learn to alter it. Now the computer isn’t an impenetrable curio, now they can change it. It becomes a tool.

    Now replace the word ‘computer’ in the last paragraph with ‘human’ and you’ve got an idea of where biology has got to. You’re full of code. Code that we can now read, and potentially ‘fix’ and change. Stop for a second. Think about it. You’re full of code. In fact, every single one of your cells has code in it. Most cells have the entire code that describes you wrapped up inside. A trillion infinitesimal USB sticks of data that define how you are made.

    Some people call DNA a ‘blueprint’ but, as George and I discuss, it’s more a cookbook of recipes for all the different parts of you. Understanding not only the cookbook, but how particular cells choose which recipes to make, in what quantities, and how the external environment affects the chef is the challenge genetic medicine now faces.

    We’re just at the beginning of the genetic age. Juan Enriquez (who I’m seeing on Wednesday) makes the analogy that as explorers we have a genetic continent to discover, and so far we’ve mapped a part of the coast. Whilst the ‘code’ you are given at birth is important to understand, how that code is interpreted as we age, or affected by what we eat, drink and do (or ‘expressed’ in genetic parlance) is not fully understood. Or to put it another way, the interaction between us and our environment is yet to be made of sense of, genetically speaking.

    To this end George has set up the Personal Genome Project (PGP) – which is recruiting 100,000 volunteers who are “willing to share their genome sequence and many types of personal information with the research community” in order to “advance our understanding of genetic and environmental contributions to human traits and to improve our ability to diagnose, treat, and prevent illness”. Or, to put it another way to work out why some people who drink and smoke like crazy don’t get really ill, while most of us would. I’m one of the volunteers (for the PGP, not the drinking and smoking). George has put his money where his mouth is. Want to see his genome? Go here. See, I wasn’t joking about the narcolepsy.

    Anyway, if I started now on everything we discussed I’d have no time to prepare for my interviews next week. Suffice to say we covered ethics, engineering, gene therapy, synthetic biology, sociology and politics. And then he took me for a beer.

    I’ll return to the subject of genetics in future posts… for now, I need a brain rest.

  • September10th

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    Another research day, perhaps for one of my biggest and most wide ranging interviews of the whole tour. Tomorrow I’ll meet George Church, professor of Genetics at Harvard Medical School and Professor of Health Sciences & Technology at Harvard and MIT. It’s no lie to say that his name will go down in history. His contribution to our understanding of genomics and life processes is huge.

    Professor Church jointly developed the first genomic sequencing method (in the early 80s) and was one of the key figures in getting the Human Genome Project off the ground. Oh, and he’s spearheading one of the most promising approaches to creating synthetic life – starting with a ‘toolkit’ of 151 essential biomolecules. All this means that I’m studying like crazy. I’ve got so much to ask him and am having to become a fast student of genetics… I don’t want to ask any stupid questions, given how privileged I feel to have secured an interview. Luckily, my interview with Mark Bedau has stood me in good stead, but even still.

    Let me tell you now. What’s happening in genetics will change everything.

    Everything.

    The more I read and understand the more amazed I become. The potential upsides are stratospheric, the implications fundamental, the ethical dilemma mind numbing…

    Luckily I’ll get some brain rest. I’ve just been called by Tommy’s Comedy Lounge offering a spot tonight…

  • September7th

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    I arrive in Boston tired after a long journey from Guildford, via Woking, Heathrow and a nice chat on the plane with Ryan, a undergraduate physics student at Brown University (which has recently entered the public consciousness in the UK, it being the choice of Harry Potter actress Emma Watson). We have a long chat about genetics (he’s reading Dawkins’ The Selfish Gene) the Large Hadron Collider (he’s not a big fan, saying that the money spent on it could have funded thousands of other labs globally) and what to call meals when your flying between timezones. We can’t decide whether it’s ‘Linner’ or ‘Dunch’. Thinking about the LHC, its current ‘out of operation’ status is something of an embarassment all round, not least I suspect for the person who had to make the phonecall to all the funders… ‘What do you mean it’s the parts and the labour?!’

    Hungry, I find a seafood bar near my hotel, where I’m rewarded with a cool beer and the hugest starter I’ve witnessed, well, since the last time I was in the US. Even in these first few hours Boston reveals itself to be a town that values intellect. My waitress is training to be a pychotherapist after quitting her job as a producer at ABC and I chat to senior couple (childhood sweethearts) one of whom worked on Byte magazine, which was something of a sacred text for computer geeks everywhere in the late 70s. Before going to bed I e-mail my article about the psychology of humour to The Telegraph and note with amusement that they’ve let me have my gags about Ed Milliband (Labour) and Lembit Opik (Liberal Democrat) but have removed my suggestion that Tory’s get caught naked more often than representatives of other political parties. Hmmm. I’ll refrain from wondering what this says about The Telegraph’s sense of humour.

    A jet-lagged inspired early rise the next day sees me set of to explore Boston, which is deserted. I put this down to the early hour but it stays ominously quiet. Outside the MIT media lab (where I’ll interview Cynthia Breazeal on Wednesday) I meet a grumpy PhD who explains it’s a national holiday, ‘Labor Day’ (like William Shatner, a Canadian import). He’s not happy, explaining he’s left completing his doctoral dissertation a little late, hence having to work on a holiday that traditionally marks the end of summer for US citizens.

    The day warms into one of pure summery goodness (if this is the last day of summer it’s going out on a high) and I walk and walk and walk. All in all I’m out for 8 hours, and walking for 7 of them. In the Public Gardens I stumble on a large demonstration in support of President Obama’s proposed health reforms. It’s interesting to think that while I’m here I’ll be meeting scientists that may make many of the conditions that these demonstrators believe need legislative reform to provide equitable treatment a thing of the past. Indeed, my research on the genomics revolution shows it has the potential to drastically reduce the healthcare burden in all societies… but as ever politics will need to play its part. Let’s hope it’s an equitable one. Genomics has applications in reducing the cost of health care but also raises the ugly spectre of insurance firms turning you down for cover based on a risk-assessment of your genome.

    I chat to a few of the demonstrators and ask why they think some people are anti-reform. A few mention the worry it’s ‘socialism by the back door’. In America it seems anything that might have the word ‘socialist’ attached to it is treated like one of the ugly tumours genetic medicine may banish. It strikes me as sad that the word has become devalued by misinterpretation, like ‘feminism’ seems to have and, to a certain extent, ‘optimism’. One thing that is bothering me is that everyone I speak to asks me where in Australia I’m from.

    Boston is a city built on learning. You can’t move for college campuses. I wander to Harvard Medical School, where I’ll interview Professor of Genetics George Church on Friday and feel slightly awed by how important the building on 77 Louis Pasteur Avenue is in relation to the future of medicine and synthetic biology.

    Today, by contrast, was a research day, reading up on sociable robots… and comedy clubs in the city. I’ve scored a gig tomorrow night at Mottley’s Comedy Club which should be fun, my first gig in the states…

    I’ve just stayed up to do an interview on BBC Radio Wales about the psychology of humour, it’s 1:40am. Time for bed.

  • August28th

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    I’m very happy to have secured Juan Enriquez and an interviewee for the book.

    Don’t know who he is? Juan Enriquez is one of the leading authorities on the impact of ‘the life sciences’ on our economies and philosophy. He’s the CEO of Biotechonomy (a life sciences research and investment firm) and was the founding director of the Life Sciences Project at Harvard Business School. He’s mates with everyone who is anyone in the life sciences field, and spreads his formidable intellect between business, science and international politics. Of the same standing as a thinker as Ray Kurzweil (who I’m meeting, I hope, in January) he’s ‘Mr. Big Picture’ when it comes to genomics. He’s probably got a better view of where the science is leading us than most. I’m quite surprised (but very happy) he agreed to be interviewed. Enriquez believes that humans will be increasingly controlling the code of life and the ‘new maps of life’ will profoundly affect countries, business, religion and ethics. “There is a whole genomic continent to discover, and we’ve just mapped part of the coastline so far.”

    To get a (great) flavour, you might enjoy this (I did):

    And if you haven’t read it, then his ‘As the future catches you’ is compulsive (yet surprisingly easy) reading…

  • August17th

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    I’m just back from a trip to the University of Southern Denmark to see Mark Bedau. Mark’s your average polymath, and one of the key thinkers in synthetic biology – most notably because, not only is he one of the directors of Protolife (who are trying to create life in the lab), he’s also a professor of philosophy. He’s also had an interesting brush with outsmarting casinos which I’ll certainly be touching on in the book. Besides all this he’s setting up a Scientific Social Responsibility movement (taking a leaf out of business’ CSR movement) which isn’t making him popular with some of the old guard of the scientific community. Some fear that his work in opening up the discussion around the ethics and applications of synthetic life will put funding at risk. I had an amazing chat with him – and he was very passionate about the book. I had a TV crew in tow who are using this visit to create a ‘taster’ of the accompanying TV series they want to get made – so I’ll post it up when they’ve done. It’s my first proper crack at TV presenting – and I have to say I really enjoyed it.

    My abiding memories of this trip are not only the deeply philosophical and inspiring chat I had with Mark but Tom (Keeling, cameraman) doing an impression of Gollum that was, quite frankly, scary. Tom mentioned that an ex-girlfriend of his was actually turned on by this. We both agreed this was very wrong.