Professor Roger Watson reviews The Trials of Maurice Brophy, the new novel by Marcus Bland about a Cambridge academic whose life spirals after he finds himself summarily cancelled over his research on Wagner.
PRESS REVIEW – Friday, October 9: US Defence Secretary Pete Hegseth announces that the military execution of Fort Hood shooter Nidal Malik Hasan will be "livestreamed". But first: we look at reactions in Italy after the country's parliament passes a controversial electoral reform that critics say serves to benefit Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni. Plus, ".fart" and ".trump" are among the new domain name applications, as revealed by the US non-profit organisation ICANN.
PRESS REVIEW – Thursday, October 8: Maricarmen, the evicted Spanish pensioner who became the face of Spain's housing crisis, dies in hospital. Also, France braces for "Act Four" of high school student protests against dilapidated schools and poor staff presence. Finally, actress Zendaya sparks a row over etiquette at Paris Fashion Week.
There are more than 800 surveillance towers located along U.S. borders, a number that is expected to triple in the next decade. These towers, according to a government accountability report, “detect items of interest, such as people.” But interest can be fickle. As part of “Dying on Camera,” a sprawling package of features co-published by the MIT Technology Review and Times of San Diego, Lillian Perlmutter reports on the death of Graciela Gómez Hernández, one among hundreds of migrants whose final moments seem as though they should have been witnessed. “The proximity of so many deaths to high-resolution cameras leaves two distinct possibilities,” Perlmutter writes. “Either the system didn’t detect these people in distress, or it did detect them—and officials offered no response. “
Surveillance towers have proliferated in recent years, as contractors added newer camera systems that use artificial intelligence to distinguish border-crossers from other people and animals, and track their movements, at an overall cost of more than a billion dollars. Yet as the cameras scan the terrain, migrants continue to die in plain sight.
PRESS REVIEW – Tuesday, October 6: The death of a researcher in Siberia, reportedly from the plague, sparks concern despite Russian authorities' denial. But first: French high school protesters are promising "Act 3" of their protest movement against learning conditions. Also, Le Monde speaks to the editor of Russian independent outlet Novaya Gazeta ahead of the 20th anniversary of the murder of investigative journalist Anna Politkovskaya. Finally, it appears that butter is back in fashion.
Before the killings that helped bring down Ukraine’s president in February 2014, American diplomats were discussing who should enter its government. In a leaked telephone call, senior State Department official Victoria Nuland told US ambassador Geoffrey Pyatt, “I think Yats is the guy,” referring to opposition leader Arseniy Yatseniuk. Washington had clear preferences and was working to advance them. Later that month, Yatseniuk became prime minister.
Ivan Katchanovski’s The Maidan Massacre in Ukraine examines the violence that preceded that transfer of power. Drawing on television footage, witness testimony, forensic examinations and Ukrainian court proceedings, he argues that elements of the opposition shot protesters and police in a false-flag operation. His case centres on evidence of protesters being shot from opposition-controlled locations, including Hotel Ukraina, overlooking the killing ground.
The protests began in November 2013, when President Viktor Yanukovych suspended plans to sign an association agreement with the European Union. Demonstrators gathered in Kyiv’s Independence Square, known as the Maidan. Police violence, restrictive legislation and escalating clashes deepened the confrontation. On 20 February, scores were killed or injured. An agreement signed the following day failed to preserve Yanukovych’s presidency; he fled Kyiv, and parliament voted to remove him.
During the shootings, BBC correspondent Gabriel Gatehouse reported seeing what looked like a protester firing from a window of Hotel Ukraina. Katchanovski connects the BBC footage with ICTV recordings and an investigative finding that the room was occupied by a parliamentary deputy from the far-right Svoboda party. His account also cites a Maidan participant’s testimony that protesters had told him the gunman was “our sniper.”
Orwellian blackout & denial of false-flag Maidan massacre evidence: · BBC & ICTV videos of sniper(s) in Hotel Ukraina room of far-right Svoboda deputy shooting Maidan protesters & BBC journalists · Maidan activists, BBC journalist & verdict identifying them as Maidan sniper(s) ·… pic.twitter.com/aRQozPzS8d
VIDEO: BBC and ICTV footage that Katchanovski identifies as showing shooting from a Hotel Ukraina room occupied by a Svoboda deputy, directed towards protesters and the BBC crew. (Source: Ivan Katchanovski on X.)
Svoboda publicly announced that its activists had taken Hotel Ukraina under their control and protection on 25 January, according to the statement reproduced in Katchanovski’s chapter on witness testimony. He also cites a Maidan Self-Defence commander who described guarding the entrance and checking bags before, during and after the massacre. Other recordings and accounts place armed opposition groups inside.
Wounded protesters described shots coming from the hotel and other Maidan-controlled locations. Katchanovski compares those accounts with wound directions, ballistic findings and synchronised footage. In his reconstruction, protesters advancing towards the police were also being shot from elevated positions to their sides or behind them, in buildings controlled by their own movement.
Katchanovski’s examination of the October 2023 verdict exposes a contradiction within the proceedings. Passages he reproduces place particular fatal shootings in the direction of Hotel Ukraina, outside police-controlled territory. Yet the prosecution’s case against Berkut, Ukraine’s riot police, proceeded alongside evidence that, according to his analysis, pointed towards opposition-controlled positions. He identifies missing exhibits, altered bullet fragments and reversals of earlier forensic examinations, arguing that the investigation obscured the responsibility of opposition-linked shooters.
Self-described Georgian participants alleged that they received weapons and orders to shoot both police and protesters to disrupt a political settlement. Their accounts implicated opposition figures, including Serhii Pashynsky, a Ukrainian member of parliament from the Fatherland party and a Maidan opposition politician. Katchanovski compares details from those accounts with footage, shooting locations, and other testimony, though he acknowledges his study cannot verify allegations against named individuals.
The authorities emerging from the upheaval quickly sought new intelligence ties. A New York Times investigation traces the partnership to 24 February 2014, when Ukraine’s new security-service chief contacted the CIA and Britain’s MI6. It subsequently expanded into extensive cooperation, including 12 CIA-supported secret locations along Ukraine’s border with Russia, constructed over the eight years preceding the newspaper’s 2024 report.
At home, parliament’s attempt to repeal the regional-language law triggered widespread criticism. As language scholar Dominique Arel explains, acting president Oleksandr Turchynov blocked the repeal, leaving the law in force. The vote nevertheless intensified controversy over the new authorities’ approach to language rights.
The massacre helped determine who would govern Ukraine. Katchanovski concludes that elements of the opposition engineered the killings to turn public outrage against Yanukovych and seize power. His case brings together hotel footage, victims’ accounts, forensic material and evidence he identifies as investigative manipulation. The book challenges both the attribution of the shootings and the political account built upon them.
BOOK: Read Ivan Katchanovski’s The Maidan Massacre in Ukraine, the open-access investigation examined in this article. The book brings together video analysis, witness testimony, forensic material and Ukrainian court proceedings to present the author’s case for a false-flag massacre. (Source: Ivan Katchanovski, The Maidan Massacre in Ukraine | Palgrave Macmillan, 2024)
The twenty-first century runs on it. Paediatric clinics. Cancer centres. Forensic laboratories. Family-planning counsel. It is used to explain illness, to assign blame, to foreclose questions. It protects the industries whose products and practices are what actually caused the harm.
It isn’t true.
In 2010, Jonathan Latham and Allison Wilson looked at over seven hundred genome-wide association studies covering some eighty common diseases. The genes the field had promised were not there. The field invented a term, “missing heritability”, to explain the absence, and has quietly worked to bury the finding ever since.
The Genetic Deception is a book about what Latham and Wilson found. What the field did with it. And what the public was told instead.
The Genetic Deception
How a Failed Science Conceals the Real Causes of Disease
Second Edition, revised and expanded. 406 pages, paperback.
Across nineteen chapters and six appendices, the book works through the conditions where the genetic framework collapses on inspection. Cystic fibrosis, where the environmental trigger is omitted. Down’s syndrome, where the toxic exposures are known but not acknowledged. Dravet syndrome, where vaccine injury is renamed as inherited fate. BRCA. FH. Alpha-1. The forensic DNA story the public has never been told.
Long-form interviews with Jamie Andrews and Leon Karmameleon of the Telestai Network. Close engagement with the work of Dr Thomas Cowan, Elizabeth Nickson, and Latham and Wilson. A resource library at the back. An appendix on what to say when the doctor says “it’s genetic.”
What the book exposes is a procedure. A procedure for converting environmental injury, pharmaceutical damage, and industrial poisoning into inherited destiny. The procedure works on the patient. It works on the doctor. It works because most people who encounter it have never been shown what it conceals.
New in the Second Edition:
Three chapters not in the digital edition. The first is a long treatment of cystic fibrosis, the textbook example of a single-gene disease and the case that falls apart hardest on inspection. The second catalogues ten of the conditions currently labelled “genetic” and shows, one by one, what the label forecloses. The third asks where family resemblance actually comes from if not from genes, and what the Human Genome Project’s failure means for the question.
Expanded appendices, including an expanded vocabulary for the terms the framework uses to protect itself. New Notes and Sources across nine chapters, cited to the primary literature rather than to the field’s own summaries.
A full back-of-book index covering the people, institutions, conditions, and concepts named in the book, cross-referenced so the paperback works as a reference and not just a read-through. Any term the reader has seen in a clinic or in a news article — missing heritability, Dravet, CFTR, BRCA — can be looked up and traced to every place the book addresses it.
Table of Contents
Introduction
Genetics: The Ultimate Cover Story
Genetics Was Built on Bad Chemistry
The Fifth Wall: Genetics as the Final Fortress of Medical Extraction
Fool’s Gold Standard: The Unvalidated Science of DNA
Interview with Jamie Andrews
Interview with Leon Karmameleon (Telestai Network)
Your Genetic Heart Disease Isn’t Genetic
The Great DNA Data Deficit
The DNA Paradox: How Unseen Molecules Became Unquestioned Facts
How to Create a Genetic Condition
What is Cystic Fibrosis?
Down’s Syndrome: Environmental Poisoning Disguised as Genetic Fate
The Genetic Alibi: How Wayne Bennett’s Family Tragedy Exposes the Dravet Syndrome Cover Story
The Great Extinction Lie: How Genetics and Environmental Fraud are Destroying Rural Populations
The Emperor’s New Genes
The DNA Myth: What the Peer-Reviewed Literature Actually Shows About Forensic and Paternity Testing
The Ten “Genetic” Diseases That Aren’t Genetic
Heredity Without Genes
Appendix 1: The Vocabulary of Genetic Deception
Appendix 2: What to Say When the Doctor Says “It’s Genetic”
Appendix 3: The Four Real Causes
Appendix 4: The Conditions Currently Labelled “Genetic”
Appendix 5: The Eugenics Continuity
Appendix 6: The Curated Resource Library
Index
Who this book is for:
The reader who has watched a diagnosis arrive in their family and sensed that the explanation did not fit. The reader who wants to know what the research actually says instead of what the press release claims. The reader who is ready to ask what happened to the person before they were handed the gene.
PRESS REVIEW – Friday, October 2: We look at reactions in the French papers after high school blockades turned violent across France. We also look ahead to Brazil's two-round presidential election, which begins this weekend. The electoral campaign culminated with the cancellation of a presidential debate after both President Lula and his rival Flavio Bolsonaro pulled out. Finally, this year's Comedy Wildlife Awards finalists do not disappoint.
PRESS REVIEW – Wednesday, September 30: The Cornell University gang rape investigation reopens. But first: students and prisoners protest in Iran "in a rare show of dissent". Journalist Evan Gershkovich speaks about his 16 months in a Russian prison. Bonus: what can we do to be less lonely? Finally, Fat Bear Week has chosen its winner.
The label for Humira, once the best-selling drug in the world, lists its risks in plain print. One of them, in the label’s own words, is new “autoimmune” disease.
A drug prescribed for a condition labelled autoimmune carries a warning that it can cause a condition labelled autoimmune. That contradiction sits in every box, on a folded paper almost nobody reads.
My new book starts there.
No Autoimmunity: The Body Doesn’t Attack Itself
For seventy years, “your body is attacking itself, and we don’t know why” has ended the conversation for people diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, lupus, rheumatoid arthritis, Hashimoto’s, Type 1 diabetes, Crohn’s and psoriasis. More than eighty conditions now carry the autoimmune label. The diagnosis comes with a prescription for life. It almost never comes with a question about cause.
This book asks the question and answers it from the framework’s own records: its drug labels, its journals, its regulatory filings, and its own experiments.
What’s inside
Humira: The Cover Story. A drug that once earned more than twenty billion dollars a year, whose own label warns of lymphoma and new conditions labelled autoimmune. Stop taking it and the symptoms usually return, so the prescription never ends.
The Autoimmune Label. In 1956 researchers produced thyroid disease in rabbits by injecting thyroid tissue with a powerful adjuvant. A category defined by “unknown cause” has since grown to more than eighty conditions.
The Three Deceptions. The “immune system” as an army, antibodies as soldiers, autoimmunity as the army turning on itself. Each idea props up the others.
Richet’s Erased Nobel. The 1913 Nobel Prize for showing that injected foreign proteins sensitise the body. Medicine kept the prize and filed the warning under “allergy.”
The Nervous System. The 1976 swine flu campaign and the paralysis cases that followed. Hal Huggins removed mercury fillings from MS patients, documented their improvement, and lost his licence.
The Endocrine System. Fluoride and bromide crowding out iodine, and a lifelong thyroid pill that ensures nobody learns whether the gland could recover.
Connective Tissue. Evelyn Hess’s catalog of more than seventy medications that produce lupus and related disease, which usually clears once the drug is stopped. The book’s central proof, from the framework’s own literature.
The GI Tract. Celiac disease went from one child in five thousand in 1950 to about one person in a hundred today. The chapter covers what changed in the food.
Skin and Blood. Psoriasis appears where skin is injured, and the drugs sold for psoriasis are documented to cause it.
The Documented Reversals. Drugs withdrawn, mercury removed, implants taken out, diets changed. Once the injury is gone, the body mends.
What Made the Reversal Possible. Remove the harm, restore what the body needs, give it time, and protect what still works.
How to Think About the Diagnosis You Were Given. Written directly to the reader holding a diagnosis, with the exposure history to build and the questions to ask.
Where to Go from Here. A reading list and the kinds of practitioners worth finding.
Every chapter closes with How to Explain It to a 6 Year Old, a plain-language section you can read aloud to a child or hand to a relative who will never read a medical paper. The book also includes a glossary, a bibliography of more than 100 sources and a full index.
Who this book is for
If you or someone you love has been handed one of these diagnoses, read this before accepting that the answer is a lifetime prescription. If you’re a practitioner, or someone who simply wants to check the record, the full documentary trail is here, referenced source by source.
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In 1792 Paris, a “north-going astronomer,” Jean-Baptiste-Joseph Delambre, set forth for Dunkerque, France, while a “south-going astronomer,” Pierre-François-André Méchain, made his way to Barcelona, Spain. As leaders of the meridian expedition, their modest ambition was to measure the world. They would use a new measure to be called the meter. “The meter would be eternal because it had been taken from the earth, which was itself eternal. And the meter would belong equally to all the people of the world, just as the earth belonged equally to them all.”
We start with our bodies, measuring height and weight and life. We want to know what health is, what beauty and pain and performance look like. We weigh our brains for intelligence, ability, sickness, happiness. We fight about race and politics, sex and money, images and words. We stalk the planet, its history and geography, biology and chemistry. We wrestle with space-time, its mathematics and paradoxes. We have no idea what to do about consciousness. And then there’s the small matter of love. We are obsessed and we cannot stop.
At its heart, measurement is a utopian undertaking, one that aims to make perfect sense of the world. But at every turn, it runs up against the real world, and every so often, our understanding of reality itself. We know that the act of measuring changes what is measured. Might it be changing us measurers, too?
Welcome to a reading list about measurement—not only as techne, art or craft, but as episteme, knowledge, its conquests and collapses, and what it really gives and takes away.
“In 1730, the influential physician Bernard Mandeville recalled a patient asking his doctor whether he was tired of hearing ‘so tedious a Tale’ of pain. His physician gently murmured: ‘Your Story is so diverting that I take abundance of delight in it, and your Ingenious way of telling it, gives me a greater insight into your Distemper, than you imagine.’” Now if you can get a doctor to listen to you for five undistracted minutes, count yourself lucky. Joanna Bourke takes stock of pain and its vocabulary for Aeon: “Our Anaesthetic Times.”
Indian kids tended to be small, curious, energetic as babies, growing up lean, active, rudely healthy. (I use the past tense because I’m not sure whether this is as true now as it was when I was little.) And yet, our parents thought us skinny and tried to feed us all the time. Was that a normal parental thing for the times, and if not, where did they get the idea that something needed to be fixed?
Universal standards have a way of making us feel competent and good, like, get your blood pressure down to 120/80 and you’ll be all right. But as Singh, a Harvard-trained anthropologist, points out: “Pretending that differences don’t exist doesn’t make them disappear; it only drives practitioners to rely on flawed intuitions.”
Citing case after case of medical benchmarks—too little, too much, too sideways—across the world, Singh calls for a system altogether more nuanced and considerate than the current “myth of the universal patient”—something that won’t cause actual harm, something that will help us see the real humans behind the data.
When my daughter was ten-and-a-half months old, she qualified as “wasted,” which unicef describes as “the most immediate, visible and life-threatening form of malnutrition.” My wife and I had been trying hard to keep her weight up, and the classification felt like a pronouncement of failure. Her birth weight had been on the lower end of the scale but nothing alarming: six pounds, two ounces. She appeared as a dot on a chart in which colored curves traced optimal growth; fifteenth percentile, we were told. She took well to breast-feeding and, within a month, had jumped to the twentieth percentile, then to the twenty-sixth. We proudly anticipated that her numbers would steadily climb. Then she fell behind again. At four months, she was in the twelfth percentile. At nine-and-a-half, she was below the fifth.
Our pediatrician was worried. Ease off the lentils and vegetable smoothies, we were warned; we needed to get more calories into our babe. Ghee, peanut butter—we were to drench her food in these and other fats and wash them down with breast milk and formula. And that’s what we did. When we came back a month later, though, we learned that she had dropped further—and crossed into “wasted” territory.
“There are two kinds of people in the world: people who think there are two kinds of people in the world and people who don’t.” Science or self-help? Louis Menand assesses “society’s people-sorting operations” for The New Yorker: “What Personality Tests Really Deliver.”
Have you ever taken an IQ test? How about an aptitude test for studies or a psychometric test for work? How about an online quiz?
“You were supposed to be there already. Didn’t the tests show you had a head start?” Svoboda, labelled a “gifted” child in the ’80s and dealing with its fallout in her adult life, unpacks the deeply problematic, yet starry, history of testing. She looks at Stanford-Binet, Army Alpha, SAT, and others—all ways to measure human potential. Intelligence and aptitude tests, “binary stars circling in the same orbit,” Svoboda says, seem to be asking and answering: Who deserves a chance, and who doesn’t? Who is worthy, and who isn’t?
For the American psychologist Lewis Terman, who devised the Stanford-Binet IQ test, the birth of a gifted child was like the birth of a star. In the name of illuminating what he saw as a void, Terman sought out the stars that burned brightest. “The school has no more important task than to foster the development of the mentally gifted,” the researcher at Stanford University in California told attendees at a meeting in San Francisco. “Our chances of survival . . . may well depend upon the discovery and utilisation of highly superior abilities of every kind.” To further this mission, Terman urged hundreds of children all over California to sit for his newly developed intelligence test in the 1920s. Intending to prove his theory that high IQs predicted life success, he sorted the highest scorers into a group of 1,521 children (called his “Termites”) that he would follow and document throughout their lives.
“Why Netflix looks like that.” Will Tavlin investigates what goes on behind the scenes at the streaming behemoth for n+1: “Casual Viewing.”
In hydraulics, pumping high-pressure fluid into a well causes rock to crack and oil and gas to come pouring in. This is called fracturing, or fracking. Burnett, a Princeton historian of science and part of a scholar-artist-activist collective called Friends of Attention, has adapted this term to refer to an insidious property of the attention economy. “Fracking eyeballs” refers to applying psychological and advertising techniques under pressure to bait and extract monetary value from human attention. (I don’t know how they live with this mental image all the time, though.)
This essay, opening at a 1925 Harlem shop window with a “puzzling totem face” and crammed with historical anecdote and detail, comes from the magazine’s Issue 04: Measurement. Do check out the whole issue: “How do you measure seeing god? Does testing vaccines need to take so long? Outlining poverty. Asking better questions. The origins of the ad economy. Can we really say how smart AIs are? Domestic violence during lockdown. Sex, drugs, and colonoscopies. Our most pedantic issue yet.”
See also Burnett’s Public Domain Review essay, “Cybernetic Attention,” where he pursues the “pre-history of the laboratory research that has relentlessly worked to slice and dice the attentional powers of human beings.”
In Nixon’s earliest experiments, he would hide in an observation booth, accompanied by a metronome beating half seconds, and then watch closely as two ads were revealed to a seated subject. Ticking his pencil along the rungs of a fascinating little ladder-pad with each beat of the metronome (marking the left side when the eyes were to the left; marking the right side when the eyes were to the right), Nixon created a graphical record of the subject’s visual encounter with the two stimuli.
If you were advertising a car, was it better to show a picture of a car, or of a pretty woman? If one was selling shirt collars, was it better to do so under the headline “Murder!” or the headline “Quality Shirt Collars”? To make a long story short (and to skip over the proto-pataphysical techniques by which Nixon established what we might call a “science of irrelevancy”), Nixon found that “irrelevant illustrations do attract more attention and hold interest longer than do relevant ones.” Which is to say: systematically doing violence to sense raised revenue. This could be proven in his laboratory. Would it be wrong to say that we live, in many respects, in the world evolved from that finding?
“Correlation, one of the most used and least understood concepts in statistics, is easy to mistake for causation because it was made that way intentionally; it’s precisely because of its potential to be misunderstood that it remains so popular. . . . The eugenics movement was built out of correlations.” Read about its history and current state of affairs in this Los Angeles Review of Books essay by Aubrey Clayton for the Legacies of Eugenics series: “The ‘Correlation’ Between Statistics and Eugenics.”
In 1901, Scotland Yard started using fingerprints to solve crime. They weren’t the pioneers. Sherlock Holmes had gotten there first in The Sign of Four, already examining under his magnifying glass, in 1890, what appeared to Dr. Watson as “mere shapeless smudges of dust.” While the fictional Holmes was publishing his fictional monographs in fictional journals, “gentleman scientist” (self-funded and without institutional affiliations) Francis Galton was working on the same thing for real. The era was primed for this kind of work across disciplines and professions—finding and interpreting “clues unnoticed by others.”
And while Holmes was trying to catch bad guys, Galton came up with a malign plan. What if you could use fingerprints as “tiny fossil records, providing evidence of the genealogy, personality, criminality, and perhaps even destiny of individuals and groups”? No more varicolored bad guys, only “a political program of selective breeding to improve, in his view, the human race.”
Empire, race, and “science”—eugenics.
In 1888, a reporter from the Pall Mall Gazette paid a visit to Galton’s Anthropometric Laboratory in London, where instruments developed by Galton measured the physical and mental characteristics—from keenness of hearing to breathing power—of over 10,000 people. The resulting article, titled “A Morning With the Anthropometric Detectives,” described Galton’s laboratory as a world of “order and precision, and tests of the nicest accuracy.” “Dumb though they are,” Galton told the reporter, “what splendid detectives our instruments might prove.” “Splendid detectives!” the reporter exclaimed, “I am not, I hope, in a department of the Criminal Investigation Department, unconsciously yielding convincing proofs of personal identity with some scoundrel hitherto unhung.”
The comparison to detection in the article’s title is no accident: the scientific development of medical and anthropometric instruments like Galton’s coincided with the rise of the detective novel, a genre which, in the words of the literary scholar Ronald Thomas, was “preoccupied with the professional monitoring and identification of bodies.” Fears of mistaken identity and unconscious slips were crystallized in the literature of detection but emerged from a broad range of hermeneutic practices across the era, at a time in which those in power considered the borders of empire and boundaries of racial identity to be insecure.
“Experiments that test physics and philosophy as ‘a single whole’ may be our only route to surefire knowledge about the universe.” Seeing as the lines between them have already been “blurred beyond repair,” here’s another essay by Amanda Gefter for Quanta Magazine: “‘Metaphysical Experiments’ Probe Our Hidden Assumptions About Reality.”
“What happens when you get to the end of things?” This was the question that had held John Wheeler in thrall all his life. A student of Niels Bohr and friend of Albert Einstein who counted Richard Feynman among his own students, Wheeler was a rare soul—a below-the-radar legend, a “physicist’s physicist” who really wanted physics for the people. And throughout his storied career, he kept journals.
We learned in school that gravity is a force that pulls objects together.
Einstein’s theory of general relativity came along and said, well, it’s actually that matter and energy can curve space-time, and that curving is gravity. Wheeler wondered, what if gravity could act on itself, endlessly contorting space-time, and that was what matter itself was . . . warped space-time? But reality had a problem. “The fabric of space-time, at its smallest scales, was loosely woven, chewed by moths, too flimsy to bear the weight of the world. Yet here is the universe. It must be made of something.” What?
A clue: At the end of Alder’s meter book, he quotes Protagoras, a pre-Socratic philosopher: “Man is the measure of all things.”
It dawned on Wheeler that when space and time went, taking the rest of physics with them, there was something left. “With law going and chaos arriving, one principle remains,” Wheeler wrote. “The quantum principle.” Quantum mechanics, he wrote, “destroys the concept of the world as ‘sitting out there,’ with the observer safely separated from it by a 20 centimeter slab of plate glass. Even to observe so miniscule an object as an electron, he must shatter the glass. He must reach in. . . . The universe will never afterwards be the same. To describe what has happened, one has to cross out that old word ‘observer’ and put in its place the new word ‘participator.’ In some strange sense the universe is a participatory universe.”
It was officially the wildest idea he’d had yet. A universe made not of matter, not of space-time, not of stuff at all, but of our choices. It wasn’t what he’d hoped to find; the physics had led him there. He’d pried up space-time, peered beneath, and found himself staring, to his bewilderment, at a mirror. “One finds himself in desperation asking if the structure, rather than terminating in some smallest object or in some most basic field, or going on and on, does not lead back in the end to the observer.”
“The hard problem of consciousness is a distraction from the real one.” For a clearer picture of the fundamentals according to Seth, read his earlier essay for Aeon: “The Real Problem.”
Decades ago, the philosopher David Chalmers came up with a distinction that has since become a popular touchstone in consciousness circles—the easy problem vs. the hard problem. The “easy problem” deals with the physical brain and how its functions and processes create perception, cognition, behavior, etc. The “hard problem” is why such phenomena should be connected to internal, subjective consciousness in the first place. This “explanatory gap” takes a scientific problem into the realm of philosophy. In the sidenote essay, Seth sidesteps the hard problem for what he calls the “real problem”—accounting for “the properties of consciousness in terms of biological mechanisms.” Measuring consciousness, in effect.
In the 10 years that separate the two essays, much has happened, the main event being the astonishing evolution of artificial intelligence. And now we have an unreal problem. In this Berggruen Prize-winning essay, the neuroscientist discusses the possibility of consciousness in AI. But as he says: “The future history of AI is not yet written.”
Intelligence and consciousness are different things. Intelligence is mainly about doing: solving a crossword puzzle, assembling some furniture, navigating a tricky family situation, walking to the shop—all involve intelligent behavior of some kind. A useful general definition of intelligence is the ability to achieve complex goals by flexible means. There are many other definitions out there, but they all emphasize the functional capacities of a system: the ability to transform inputs into outputs, to get things done.
Consciousness, in contrast to intelligence, is mostly about being. Half a century ago, the philosopher Thomas Nagel famously offered that “an organism has conscious mental states if and only if there is something it is like to be that organism.” Consciousness is the difference between normal wakefulness and the oblivion of deep general anesthesia. It is the experiential aspect of brain function and especially of perception: the colors, shapes, tastes, emotions, thoughts and more, that give our lives texture and meaning. The blueness of the sky on a clear day. The bitter tang and headrush of your first coffee.
“In the space between the hands-on, physical reality of experimental science and the structured narratives fit for printed journals, sits a special genre of scientific writing: lab notebooks. They are the closest witness to ‘science in the making.’” Ulkar Aghayeva writes a lavishly illustrated essay for Asimov Press: “A Brief History of Lab Notebooks.”
Chiang points to two sources of inspiration in his story note: “The Electric Ant,” a Philip K. Dick story in which a man visits a doctor, only to be told that he’s a robot, and proceeds to open himself up to look at his own inner workings, and The Emperor’s New Mind, a book by mathematician Roger Penrose, in which a chapter discusses the concept of entropy. He’s struck by Penrose’s notion that we’re “consuming order and generating disorder,” and that we, given the laws of thermodynamics, “live by increasing the disorder of the universe.”
In a young world of mechanical beings where “death is uncommon,” an anatomist performs exquisite auto-dissection—an extreme act of analysis to discover what sustains life and what, therefore, can end it in a “fatal equilibrium.”
This Hugo and Locus-winning story reminds me, in its ending, of something Ursula K. Le Guin says in The Language of the Night: “Only the individual can get up and go to the window, and draw back the curtains, and look out into the dark. Sometimes it takes considerable courage to do that. When you open curtains you don’t know what may be out there in the night. Maybe starlight; maybe dragons; maybe the secret police. Maybe the grace of God; maybe the horror of death. They’re all there. For all of us.”
At first the other anatomists did not believe me when I told them what I had discovered, but in the months that followed my initial auto-dissection, more and more of them became convinced. More examinations of people’s brains were performed, more measurements of atmospheric pressure were taken, and the results were all found to confirm my claims. The background air pressure of our universe was indeed increasing, and slowing our thoughts as a result.
There was widespread panic in the days after the truth first became widely known, as people contemplated for the first time the idea that death was inevitable. Many called for the strict curtailment of activities in order to minimize the thickening of our atmosphere; accusations of wasted air escalated into furious brawls and, in some districts, deaths. It was the shame of having caused these deaths, together with the reminder that it would be many centuries yet before our atmosphere’s pressure became equal to that of the reservoir underground, that caused the panic to subside. We are not sure precisely how many centuries it will take; additional measurements and calculations are being performed and debated. In the meantime, there is much discussion over how we should spend the time that remains to us.
At a conformation show, purebred dogs are evaluated by judges according to written documents that strive to capture the exemplary features of each breed. (These standards are searchable via the American Kennel Club; my dog’s breed standard, for instance, is “interested and even mischievous” in expression, but might be faulted for a “short, prancing, or choppy gait.” Noted.) Hannah Berger files a remarkably observed dispatch from one such show in Virginia, where she has traveled to consider show dogs as signifiers, “the ideal against its approximation.” There’s plenty of human folly here, not limited to the interpretation of a “breed standard” and its pursuit over time. A janitor ceaselessly sweeps away dog hair; a mother silences her child as one might a yapping pet. Berger layers her observations into an ending so clever that I gasped.
Now under the jurisdiction of the American Kennel Club in the U.S., conformation shows measure the degree to which a dog “conforms” to its “breed standard,” a document that transmutes historical function into superficially measurable and marketable qualities: proportions, attitude, gaiting patterns. These documents vary widely in length and style. The greyhound’s standard, for example, is a spare two-hundred-word document that strays from sobriety just once in its description of the eyes: “dark, bright, intelligent, indicating spirit.” The standard of the Coton de Tulear, the bichon-like “national dog” of Madagascar, is nearly eight times as long, describing colors and shapes in percentages and angles. Its “joie de vivre” is mentioned twice.