Don’t Fear the Robot

Boy, oh boy, was last night’s presentation a doozy?!

Dr. Goldfarb, a thin fellow, prone to blinking a lot, told us about his biomechanical engineering/science work at Vanderbilt University.

[Disclosure: I had the choice of Georgia Tech or Vanderbilt for my four-year U.S. Navy ROTC scholarship in 1980, which means I should be biased toward Vanderbilt, but I’m also a football season ticket holder for the University of Tennessee, an in-state sports rival to Vanderbilt, so it probably balances out.]

I took notes during the presentation, recording some of the technical details of the work performed at the Center for Intelligent Mechatronics by Goldfarb and dozen or so assistants (which he showed in a slide at the end of his presentation — looked like 11 males and 1 female, assuming their faces reflected stereotypical gender roles and none of them are cross-gender dressers like Bradley Manning).

After I returned home and ate my wife’s peach-glazed pork roast with sweet potatoes, I took a short jog around the neighbourhood, processing what Goldfarb’s research meant for me, a person who could, at any time, suffer a debilitating injury should a drunk/texting driver jump the curb and hit me before I have time to react.

What’s it like to lose a fully-functioning limb?

What’s it worth to put in the time to learn to use an artificial limb, one assisted by microprocessor-centred circuitry?

Goldfarb’s approach to prosthetic devices is the least-invasive — no tapping into the brain or surgically implanting electrodes in nerve/muscle tissue.

There’s a whole industry devoted to this type of technology and history has shown us that prosthetics are valuable.

We can take the humorous approach and think of Captain Hook or a pegleg pirate.

Humour is a valuable asset when coming to grips with the change in one’s physical capabilities while adjusting to becoming a more apparent cybernetic organism, cyborg or borg.

Goldfarb’s three main approaches to solving the problems of limb/nervous system functionality include prosthetic hand (Vanderbilt multigrasp hand), prosthetic leg (transfemoral prosthesis) and powered lower limb exoskeleton.

The state-of-the-art is always years behind science fiction fantasies.

I would wish our artificial limbs of today could operate mechanically as well as give complete skin/nerve cell feedback — hot, cold, soft, hard, calloused, sweating, etc.

But even more, I wish our artificial limbs could give us functions that are greater than the capabilities of our human counterparts, not just the boy-toy dreams of Iron Man or Avatar but something entirely outside of our current range of thoughts/emotions.

In the meantime, I encourage university researchers like Goldfarb to give people what they once had, including the young father who would like to walk to a bench seat and watch his son’s baseball team from the stands rather than from the wheelchair section; one who wants to walk down the aisle to marry his bride next August, perfectly happy with Goldfarb’s exoskeleton as it is today, but probably after bugs have been worked out and the design refined a little better for commercial use.

Speaking of which, Goldfarb said that the cost-benefit analysis of his designs show that the improved quality of life, active/reactive prosthetics reducing hospital visits because of falling down with the use of passive prosthetics, for instance, clearly offsets the initial cost of the prosthetic devices over time.

Do insurance companies agree?  Would the ACA condemn a person to a wheelchair his whole life or offer the chance of walking via exoskeleton?

Goldfarb thanked the NIH for funding some of the research at CIM.

There are hundreds of thousands of Americans — military amputees, car smashup victims, and stroke recovery patients — who can benefit from CIM’s research.  Imagine those in the rest of world who could also gain mobility?

I never hope to have to use prosthetics but look forward to the day I might, given what I saw and heard from Dr. Goldfarb last night.

20,790 spam messages in queue

The best way to see where unintended circumstances will lead you is to take a cynical approach to your serious disposition.

Then, the future is the moment you’ve been waiting for, planning, biding your time and biting your nails about.

You needn’t worry that nothing will happen.

I was once famous on a local scale.  In junior high school, I actually had a fan club.  Sure, the club members were mostly gay guys and socially awkward girls but there were club buttons and other regalia to celebrate my celebrity status.

In high/secondary school, I was somewhat popular but I didn’t know it.  As the president of the school’s drama club for two straight years, along with appearances on stage as an actor and singer, I attracted a small following that I didn’t even know existed until I got on Facebook a few years ago and a few women my age wanted to start fantasy relationships that I saw had started in their thoughts many, many years ago.

I knew there were some people who looked up to me when I won the four-year U.S. Navy ROTC scholarship to Georgia Tech.

It was as if I had led a charmed life the first 18 years of my existence and didn’t appreciate the relative ease with which I breezed through my public school days until I left the small town and its suburban tracts for the big city.

I look back at all that, two-thirds of my life ago, and understand why I believe I am comfortable dying at any time.

I have always been happy to be alive, accepting whatever comes my way, but at the same time wanting to stay ahead of my ennui, the situational depression that dogs me like a hungry animal scenting my fear and chasing after me.

I see news headlines pop up about one subject or another that concerns populations of people out of eye and earshot and I wonder what’s going on.

Why do religious people fear nonreligious people, for instance, or vice versa?  I am perfectly comfortable in my belief that the universe both was and was not created by a supernatural being (God, in my subculture’s parlance, who miraculously created a son on Earth named Jesus (pronounced “Hey, Zeus!” of course)).  The labels we choose to describe a series of events that took place long before any of us or our ancestors could read or write is whatever we want them to be.  Our behaviour toward each other is still as important whether our origin story is called “God created the heaven and earth” or the “Big Bang.”

It is the noise or clutter that jams the airwaves with whatever people deem important enough to promote themselves and their ideas for a better life.

For others of us, one’s set of beliefs takes a second seat in the second row to hard facts like how gravity is variable across the surface of large celestial bodies but averages out sufficiently so that mathematical equations can be converted to algorithms to guide spacecraft around and land them upon distant planets, moons and other satellites.

We can fill our spare time with noise and clutter — the chattering class’ favourite topics du jour.

However, let us keep our longterm goals clearly, distinctly and loudest in our thoughts and actions.

The Mars mission continues!  Every idea counts, such as Ad Astra.

And entertaining diversions such as Europa Report.