Silicon Valley wants to live forever.
Here’s why I’m not so sure.
Since the birth of humankind, people have found innovative ways to cope with their fear of death. Some civilizations have Heaven and Hell. Some believe in karma and cycles of rebirth. Silicon Valley, of course, has technology.
For a culture that places such a high premium on youth, technologists have had a long history of being fascinated by eternal life.
In 1994, a group of transhumanists called the Extropians hosted their first official gathering in Sunnyvale, California to discuss their big ideas, like cryopreservation and the possibility of uploading human consciousness to the cloud. The Extropians aspired to transform society by augmenting human potential, their mission based in the audacious belief that “biology [is no longer] destiny: with genetic engineering, biology is under human control.”
By 2007, the World Transhumanist Association had moved to Palo Alto. They set up shop alongside similar organizations including the Singularity Institute for Artificial Intelligence and the Foresight Nanotech Institute in Menlo Park. Evidently, the heart of the Valley was the perfect incubator for nurturing these outlandish ventures.
In fact, many of today’s most prominent tech visionaries and entrepreneurs have elevated transhumanism from a fringe philosophy to the mainstream. In a world where living a long and fulfilling life is more accessible than ever, the successful have found themselves caught by an ever-present anxiety about not having accomplished enough — about not having maximized one’s full potential. That unease seems to be the driving force behind Silicon Valley’s transhumanist projects.
Alphabet CEO Larry Page launched Calico Labs in 2013, receiving a billion dollars in funding to tackle aging through “speculative” new technologies, potentially including gene therapy. Calico is equipped with an impressive team of researchers recruited from top medical schools, universities, and public-interest research centers, yet remains suspiciously vague about their actual research.
Meanwhile, PayPal co-founder and venture capitalist Peter Thiel is known for his fascination with parabiosis, young-to-old blood transfusions that aim to boost health in the face of old age. But the clinical trials for parabiosis have been oddly exclusive, charging participants a hefty $8000 for a single plasma treatment without any guarantor of success. And it seems a bit hypocritical for Thiel — the proclaimed champion of people who “make something new” and go from “zero to one” — to be this concerned with his own preservation. After all, believing one’s existence to be indispensable to the world requires a sizable dose of hubris.
But besides the obvious “creepy factor” of industrial fridges filled with disembodied heads, there are plenty of other reasons to be concerned about transhumanist trends.
First, transhumanism raises pressing concerns about Silicon Valley’s ageist tendencies. For centuries, institutions privileged seniority and experience. But the “move fast and break things” startup culture has turned these notions on their head, and tech companies now scoff at anyone over 40 years old. In a world where middle-aged-ness is synonymous with obsolescence, older engineers are finding themselves out of jobs, turned away in favor of a younger, hipper, and cheaper labor force with more updated skills. So for many ambitious yet aging individuals, age-defying biotechnology is appealing for its ability to keep them feeling and looking fresh in the workplace.
But more worrying is the question of who can access these life-extending treatments — especially in a country where jacking up the prices of lifesaving medication is standard fare. When Daniel Gottschling, Calico’s Head of Research, abandons his work at the Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center and the UW School of Medicine, his research leaves the transparency of the public realm. Resources are diverted from tackling the diseases that kill the most Americans, and instead poured into the noble task of adding two more years to Jeff Bezos’ already cushy life.
This shift of human, scientific, and financial capital precipitates a broader trend toward treating healthcare like a private, rather than public good.
In fact, some have even called these technologies a form of “high-tech eugenics.” When the world’s wealthiest have the option to lengthen their lives far beyond natural lifespans, who ends up left behind? Could our society get stratified along yet another axis: transhuman versus human? And from whom is Thiel sourcing all these young blood transfusions, anyway?
These questions may seem far-fetched now, but I’m concerned that too many dollars are going toward the rapid advancement of technology, and too little attention paid to the social consequences. And when we’re dealing with projects that may redefine the boundaries of human life itself, I’m not sure we can ever be too cautious.
But as much as the immortality industry is a shameless display of privilege and ego, transhumanism also highlights Silicon Valley’s biggest weak spot: that despite billionaires’ best efforts, no amount of genius or venture capital can actually overcome mortality. Instead, for individuals who found success through a relentless belief in the impossible, it must be troubling to come to terms with the impenetrable limitation of certain death.
Originally published in my column at The Stanford Daily. If you enjoyed this piece, check out more of my writing on Medium:
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