Transhumanist Wager, The (6 page)

“That’s exactly right, Senator,”
said the President, speaking for the first time. “Dr. Langmore, domestic
terrorist attacks are occurring everywhere in the country, fifty million people
are unemployed, and many religious Americans believe we are quickly nearing the
biblical end of time. We want concrete answers about how to steer this ship of
modern technology and science you're carrying that's causing such heated
controversy. You're one of the leaders of the movement. Give us ideas to
consider and we'll consider them.”

Langmore looked dubious, “With all
due respect, Mr. President, using your analogy, we can’t steer a ship that’s
never left dock. And with the way the dictatorial National Association of
Health is right now, our oppressed movement isn’t a ship, but a raft at best,
crudely put together with yarn, twigs, and a few rusty nails. We need real
policies and real funding to construct a sturdy vessel and get it sailing out
of the harbor so that people can benefit from its scientific advancements. We
need government to either support us or move out of the way. Transhuman science
is the greatest potentiality of our lifetimes. Let me repeat that: Transhuman
science is the greatest potentiality of our lifetimes.”

“Now, take it easy, Dr. Langmore,”
the President said carefully. He leaned in on the table, towards his
microphone. “You know we can’t just order the National Association of Health to
repeal the rules it has made, or to freely dole out money for transhuman
scientists and their research. Government is an important player in this,
regardless of how you feel about it.”

Over the last decade, the National
Association of Health—or NAH, the U.S. Government’s health arm—single-handedly
squashed most public funding for transhumanism and experimental life extension
ideas. But far worse, it also imposed esoteric laws passed by Congress that
forbade testing of many of those ideas in the private sector. The industries of
cryonics, cloning, stem cells, genetic alteration, and human enhancement were
drowning, half dead in the water. A rogue group of right-wing politicians,
those who considered Sunday church a central part of their existence, pieced
together the new anti-transhumanism research laws—largely under the radar of
the public. They became caveats of larger political agendas, as the country
withdrew into a deep, enduring economic slowdown. One year it was to limit the
stem cell strains to five variations. The next year it was to retract millions
of dollars of government funding for cryonics until more ethics reports were
completed on the subject. The following year a massive government institute,
the Fountain Center, which focused on downloading consciousness into
computers—the pinnacle of neurotech—was shut down indefinitely.

Politicians said the institute and
its programs were of no immediate help to the public, despite its being the
world leader in the neurotechnology field. Eighteen months later, the institute
was remodeled into a development center to care for American children with
severe autism. The lead senator who pushed the bill through told the press how
proud he was to create 318 jobs at the new autism institute. He failed to
mention that an independent study group believed the Fountain Center’s research
and technology, if allowed to develop over the next quarter century, would
eventually spawn over 500,000 new high-paying jobs by utterly transforming the
field of neuroscience—let alone what benefits it might have brought to many
millions of people and their brains.

Scientists cried wolf and lobbied
against the NAH’s anti-transhumanist ways. But amongst the deteriorating
economic conditions around the nation, the public shrugged. It was easier to
worry about discount superstore yellow-tag specials, what new free voucher the
government was issuing, and which married Hollywood star might be having an
affair. The brazen television behemoth IMN wouldn’t even comment on the cutbacks
or new anti-transhumanism laws. It was their method of contributing to the
decline of ideas that were in opposition to conservative politics and what
their leading news anchor famously trumpeted “the very smart word of the
Bible.”

The damn 2,000-year-old Bible, Dr.
Cohen thought with absurdity, remembering the anchor's popular words;
meanwhile, he watched Preston Langmore try to talk sense into the President and
the crowd in the rotunda. Cohen already knew the town hall forum wasn't going
to make any difference at all. The scientist closed his eyes and rubbed his
temples, wondering if anyone could win over these people, if anyone could make
the struggling tide of transhumanism wash over the ignorance and fear, and
bring about a new world.

Then, abruptly, a voice shot out
and filled the entire building, bouncing off the thick century-old walls. A
voice not called upon to speak, but booming, baritone, and sharp—without a hint
of respect for its listeners, or pretense of it. It came from the far end of the
hall and set a strained silence upon the rotunda. People turned their heads to
see who it was.

“Are all the politicians here
totally insane? Or just plain stupid?” the voice asked loudly. “Or maybe just
cowards? Trying to patch the NAH to work is a waste of time. What you need to
do is abolish the NAH—just totally get rid of it. And let scientists do their
research, and let entrepreneurs legally fund it. If you just get out of the
way, transhumanism will work out in everyone's best interest; it will benefit
our economy and the lives and longevity of every American.”

The student was Jethro Knights.
Fifty cameras turned abruptly to capture him. People nodding off in the room
quickly came to attention. Gregory Michaelson’s cool demeanor turned into the
confused impression of an idiot. He looked to his left, searching for Jethro's
blond head, recognizing his voice.
That voice!
he thought, shocked. He
saw Jethro, standing tall and adamant.

Two security guards rushed over to
the man to stop him from speaking again, but an interested female governor,
admiring Jethro’s Vikinglike demeanor, asked him to introduce himself and
further explain his point of view.

“This is supposed to be a town hall
forum, after all,” she said, looking at the President with a demanding firm nod
of her head.

Jethro bowed slightly with
gratitude and continued.

“My name is Jethro Knights. I’m a
fourth-year Philosophy student here at Victoria. You see, it’s the NAH, like so
many government organizations, that has already stunted the growth of this
country for over three decades. The NAH started off as a way to monitor and
control basic health science issues in the mid-1970s, but then broadened out to
control euthanasia, cryonics, cloning, genetics, neurotech, artificial
intelligence—eventually all transhuman science and its industry. But the NAH
now also has its hands in the food industry, senior citizen learning, logging,
environmental standards issuance, and much more. Even obscure things like
potato farming. I'm not kidding. There's a three-million-dollar budget for
monitoring potato crops in the Dust Belt. A now deceased Senator from Ohio
attached it eleven years ago as a hidden rider to a larger congressional bill,
and it's been in use ever since.

“The point is that our country
and its scientists can’t make headway against the bickering, conservative,
patched together governmental watchdog groups controlling us. We’re
professionally asphyxiated already. What U.S. scientists need is the freedom to
create and the freedom to implement their advances. And since it's our lives at
stake with transhumanism—the very nature of our existence—we need to let
science lead the way. Every time someone gets in the way of life extension and
human enhancement goals, every time a new anti-transhumanist law is passed,
every time you decide to hinder scientific progress, you are knowingly
shortening the lives and productive working hours of transhumanists and your
own citizens. We have a specific legal term for that type of behavior in this
country. It's called
manslaughter
. And it's not just the individual
whose life you are prematurely ending, it's the country's prosperity as a
whole.

"Don't you realize that
China, and maybe India too, will surpass us in innovation in just a few years?
Only a decade ago, that was unimaginable. Now many nations are quickly catching
up with us. Can't you see it was science that made our country great in the
first place? And it's what can make our country great again. Especially since
we have a game-changer in front of us. Something truly transformational. If we
just allow transhumanism to thrive, prosperity from longer and healthier life
spans will benefit us all in so many ways—psychologically, biologically,
financially. If not, we may dwindle away and die in the remains of our own
bureaucratic mess and the former glory of a once-great nation. This is a matter
of life and death. Every man and woman in this room wants to be improved and
live longer, healthier lives. Every man and woman will directly benefit from
this."

Jethro paused, scanning the
audience. He ended with, “Do we really want to remain animals for the rest of
our days when we can be so much more? We must disband the NAH and the
anti-transhuman mindset in this country. We need to forge ahead and stop being
afraid of the unknown—the transhuman unknown.”

The rotunda was silent for a
long time after Jethro stopped speaking. In those moments every person believed
in the speech’s common sense, in the potential of transhumanism, in modifying
and improving the landscape of traditional human experience. The logic was
inescapable. But then—slowly—their minds, egos, and fears lumbered around to
the immediate tasks facing them. They remembered about their need to be elected
to office; about what their constituents would say; how their churches would
cast judgment; how their mothers, spouses, and friends would react; how they
would be viewed, tallied, and callously spit out in public. Finally, they
remembered their own fears of the unknown.

Preston Langmore stared at
Jethro Knights and contemplated him. Though he'd never seen the student before,
he sensed an immediate connection. So did the oil baron, Frederick Vilimich,
who sat only twenty chairs away from the student.

Reverend Belinas also watched
Jethro. The preacher unwittingly felt sick. For a moment, he found it hard to
breathe—as if he were being choked.

Langmore turned to the President
and broke the silence, blurting out, “Mr. President, that student is exactly
right. The NAH must be disbanded. It’s a bullying, nonfunctional entity that’s
sinking us all. It's exactly what I suggested eight years ago to Congress and
the former administration, and no one listened. Now look where we are.”

Jethro sat down. The cameras
remained on him long after his speech, some zooming in on his intense blue
eyes. It was the only noticeable element of his appearance that suggested he’d
just given the U.S. President and top government members a hazing. The young
transhumanist appeared unfazed, but the emotion in him was raw. He was ready to
take a bat to people's heads. Or a pool cue, the university chancellor thought,
glaring at him, grateful this particular student was finished with his college
next week.

“This is absurd,” roared Senator
Shuman. “The NAH gone? It has a hundred thousand employees. We think it's not
strong enough. Which is why there’s such uproar to the transhuman movement.
Eliminate it? What a joke! And, by the way, when do we let some random student
express his opinions openly without being called on? Especially when he implies
we're all murderers?"

An uncomfortable tension washed
over the rotunda. The chancellor continued glaring at Jethro. Senators and
religious leaders looked peevish. The transhumanists looked grim. Only Dean
Graybury smiled inwardly.

The President of the United States
cleared his throat purposefully, and all attention in the rotunda turned to
him. “Ladies and gentleman, I agree with the senator and, I think, most others
in this room. Disbanding the NAH is not an option. It’s one of our largest
governmental entities with some of our best people in it, like Senator Shuman.”

The President paused for a moment,
his hand circling in the air, preparing to emphasize something important.

“These are difficult questions we
are considering today, and we must take time and make sense to carefully pave a
path so the citizens of this country will be content and safe. So healthcare
can improve. And religious beliefs can coexist with the modern age. And the
American economy can profit. Folks, let’s try to work out some real options
that benefit everyone. Let's try to work together and find a solution so
everyone can be happy.”

The rest of the town hall forum was
pointless. The ideas discussed revolved around suggestions that the transhuman
scientists make more sacrifices in their research: stopping a controversial
project in Wyoming; changing the direction of a study in Minnesota; closing a
bionics research center in Rhode Island; leaving a word like “cloning” out of a
major upcoming paper from a Florida university—calling it “zygote division”
instead. Emphasis was put on pushing the scientific direction as far away from
the concept of transhumanism as possible. Jethro Knights left before the forum
concluded.

“Good old-fashioned, basic health,”
the President declared. “That's what people really want. Make your movement
sound more like transhuman chicken soup. Neutralizing the rhetoric will help
everyone and also calm people’s nerves.”

Ultimately, the government only
wanted the polarization of the country and the terrorism to stop, and to take
from transhuman science only that which was ethical from a conservative
Judeo-Christian point of view—which was very little. The rest of the
experimental life extension and human enhancement research would best be
discarded, it insisted.