Like many in Silicon Valley, technology entrepreneur Bryan Johnson sees a
future in which intelligent machines can do things like drive cars on
their own and anticipate our needs before we ask.
What's uncommon is
how Johnson wants to respond: Find a way to supercharge the human brain
so that we can keep up with the machines.
From an unassuming
office in Venice Beach, Calif., his science fiction-meets-science
start-up, KerNEL, is building a tiny chip that can be implanted in the
brain to help people suffering from neurological damage caused by
strokes, Alzheimer's, or concussions. The team of top neuroscientists
building the chip - they call it a neuroprosthetic - hope that in the
longer term, it will be able to boost intelligence, memory, and other
cognitive tasks.
The medical device is years in the making,
Johnson acknowledges, but he can afford the time. He sold his payments
company, Braintree, to PayPal for $800 million (roughly Rs. 5,357 crores) 2013. A former Mormon
raised in Utah, the 38-year-old speaks about the project with
missionary-like intensity and focus. "Human intelligence is landlocked
in relationship to artificial intelligence - and the landlock is the
degeneration of the body and the brain," he said, in an interview about
the company, which had not discussed publicly before. "This is a
question of keeping humans front and center as we progress."
Johnson
stands out among an elite set of entrepreneurs who believe Silicon
Valley can play a role in funding large-scale scientific discoveries -
the kind that can dramatically improve human life in ways that go beyond
building software.
Though many of their ventures draw from
software principles: In the last two years, venture capital firms like
Y-Combinator, Andreessen Horowitz, Peter Thiel's Founder's Fund, Khosla
Ventures and others have poured money into start-ups that focus on
"bio-hacking" - the notion that you can engineer the body the way you
would a software program. They've funded companies that aim to sequence
the bacteria in the gut, reprogram the DNA you were born with, or
conduct cancer biopsies from samples of blood. They've backed so-called
cognitive enhancement businesses like Thync, which builds a headset that
sends mood-altering electrical pulses to the brain, and Nootrobox, a
start-up that makes chewable coffee supplements that combine doses of
caffeine with active ingredients in green tea, leading to a
precisely-engineered, zenlike high.
It's easy to dismiss these
efforts as the hubristic, techno-utopian fantasies of a self-involved
elite that believes it can defy death and human decline - and in doing
so, confer even more advantages on the already-privileged.
And
while there's no shortage of hubris in Silicon Valley, it's also
undoubtable some of these projects will accelerate scientific
breakthroughs and fill some of the gaps left in the wake of declining
public funding for scientific research, said Laurie Zoloth, professor of
Medical Humanities and Bioethics at Northwestern University. Moreover,
techies are motivated by the fact that many biological and health
challenges increasingly involve data-mining and computation; they're
looking more like problems that they know how to solve. Large-scale
genome sequencing, for example, has long been seen as key to unlocking
targeted cancer therapies and detecting disease far earlier than current
methods; it's becoming more of a reality as the cost of sequencing,
storing, and analyzing the data has dropped dramatically, leading to a
flood of investments in that area.
KerNEL is cognitive enhancement
of the not-gimmicky variety. The concept is based on the work of
Theodore Berger, a pioneering biomedical engineer who directs the Center
for Neural Engineering at the University of Southern California, and is
the startup's chief science officer.
For over two decades, Berger
has been working on building a neuroprosthetic to help people with
dementia, strokes, concussions, brain injuries, and Alzheimer's disease,
which afflicts one in nine adults over 65.
The implanted devices
try to replicate the way brain cells communicate with one another. Let's
say, for example, that you are having a conversation with your boss. A
healthy brain will convert that conversation from short term memory to
long-term memory by firing off a set of electrical signals. The signals
fire in a specific code that is unique to each person and is a bit like a
software command.
Brain diseases throw these signaling codes off.
Berger's software tries to assist the communication between brain cells
by making an instantaneous prediction as to what the healthy code
should be, and then firing off in that pattern. In separate studies
funded by the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency over the last
several years, Berger's chips were shown to improve recall functions in
both rats and monkeys.
A year ago, Berger felt he had reached a
ceiling in his research. He wanted to begin testing his devices with
humans, and was thinking about commercial opportunities when he got a
cold call from Johnson in October 2015. He hadn't heard of Johnson; the
Google search said he was a tech entrepreneur who had founded a payments
processing company and invested in out-there science startups. The two
met in Berger's office later that month. They talked for four hours,
skipping lunch, and by end the day, Johnson said he would put up the
funds for the two to start something together. "I don't know who, but
somebody was looking over us," Berger said of the meeting.
For Johnson, the meeting was a culmination of a longtime obsession with intelligence and the brain.
Shortly
after he sold Braintree, he was already restless to start another
company. He spent six months calling everyone he knew who was doing
"something audacious" - about 200 people in all. "I wanted to
understand, what mental models people maintained - how did they define
what to work on and why?" he says.
He then set up a $100 million
fund that invests in science and technology start-ups that could
"radically improve quality of life." The fund, which comes exclusively
from his personal fortune, was called OS Fund, because he wanted support
companies that were making changes at the so-called operating system
level, he said. Johnson's goal was to take projects from "crazy to
viable" - including start-ups attempting to mine asteroids for precious
metals and water, delivery drones for developing countries, and an
artificial intelligence company building the world's largest human
genetic database.
At the same time, he kept returning to
intelligence, both artificial and real. As he saw it, artificial
intelligence was booming - technology advances were moving at an
accelerated pace; the pace of the human brain's evolution was sluggish
by comparison. So he hired a team of neuroscientists, and tasked them
with combing through all the relevant research, with the goal of forming
a brain company. Eventually they settled on Berger.
Ten months
later, the team is starting to sketch out prototypes of the device and
is conducting tests with epilepsy patients in hospitals. They hope to
start a clinical trial, but first they have to figure out how to make
the device portable (Right now, patients who use it are hooked up to a
computer).
Zoloth says one of the big risks of technologists
funding science is that they fund their own priorities, which can be
disconnected from the greater public good. Many people don't have enough
resources to fulfill the brain potential they currently have, let alone
enhance it. "Saying that if tech billionaires fund what they want may
inadvertently fund science for the larger public, as a sort of leftover
effect, is a problematic argument," she said. "If brilliantly creative
high school teachers in the inner city, for example, could fund science
too, then perhaps the needs of the poor might be found more
interesting."
Johnson says he is acutely aware of those concerns.
He recognizes that the notion of people walking around with chips
implanted in their heads to make them smarter seems far-fetched, to put
it mildly. He says the goal is to build a product that is widely
affordable, but acknowledges there are challenges. He points that many
scientific discoveries - even the printing press itself - started out
for a privileged group but ended up providing massive benefits to
humanity. The primary benefits of KerNEL, he says, will be for the sick,
for the millions of people who have lost their memories due to brain
disorders. Even a small improvement in memory - a person with dementia
might be able to remember the location of the bathroom in their home,
for example - can help people maintain their dignity and enjoy a greater
quality of life.
And in an age of AI, he insists that boosting
the capacity of our brains is itself an urgent public concern. "Whatever
endeavor we imagine - flying cars, go to Mars - it all fits downstream
from our intelligence," he says. "It is the most powerful resource in
existence. It is the master tool."
© 2016 The Washington Post