Films from the Future

by Andrew Maynard

  One of the more prominent concerns raised around predictive policing is the dangers of human bias swaying data collection and analysis. If the designers of predictive policing systems believe they know who the “bad people” are, or even if they have unconscious biases that influence their perceptions, there’s a very real danger that crime prevention technologies end up targeting groups and neighborhoods that are assumed to have a higher tendency toward criminal behavior. This was at the center of the Stop LAPD Spying Coalition report, where there were fears that “black, brown, and poor” communities were being disproportionately targeted, not because they had a greater proportion of likely criminals, but because the predictive systems had been trained to believe this. Just like the Veris Prime test that the chapter started with, that’s designed to predict white-collar criminal tendencies, there are real dangers that predictive policing systems will end up targeting people who are assumed to have bad tendencies,whether they do or not.

  The hope is, of course, that we learn to wield this tremendously powerful technology responsibly and humanely because, without a doubt, if it’s used wisely, big data could make our lives safer and more secure. But this hope has to be tempered by our unfailing ability to delude ourselves in the face of evidence to the contrary, and to justify the unethical and the immoral in the service of an assumed greater good.

  And this is a theme that also echoes through our next movie: Limitless.

  Chapter Five

  LIMITLESS: PHARMACEUTICALLY-ENHANCED INTELLIGENCE

  “I don’t have delusions of grandeur, I have an actual recipe for grandeur.”

  —Eddie Morra

  A Pill for Everything

  Back in 2009, just as we were about to tip over into the next decade, I set out to take stock of some of the more interesting and unusual emerging technologies on the horizon. The short article that ended up on the blog 2020 Science lists ten technology trends I thought were worth watching over the next ten years. And at number nine was “nootropics.”45

  Even then, these so-called “smart drugs” were being used quite widely by people wanting give their brains a boost. And, from my research, it seemed that this was a technology that was only going to get bigger. I had no idea just how big, though. Nearly ten years later, Googling “cognitive enhancers” returns a flood of companies selling smart drugs, people giving advice on brain-improving substances, cognitive-enhancer dosing regimens using a plethora of ingredients, “how-to” guides on hacking your brain, and a regular stream of news articles on the latest substance-enhanced mind hacks. Back in 2009, it was off-label uses of substances like modafinil, Adderall, and Ritalin that was all the rage. These days, it’s a whole pharmacopoeia of substances and “stacks” (or formulations) designed to give you a legal, or at least a not-too-illegal, edge.

  Underpinning this trend, there’s an almost unquestioned assumption that having a better memory, and being able to think faster and more clearly, are important if you want to be successful. Things are less clear, though, when it comes to the potential tradeoffs that these substances come with. Mess with your body’s chemistry, and there’s usually a price to pay somewhere down the line. But things are more complex when it comes to social tradeoffs. What do we gain and lose as a society if a growing number of people start to chemically enhance themselves? And if we’re collectively going to go down this path, how can we navigate our way to using increasingly powerful cognitive enhancements responsibly?

  The movie Limitless provides an intriguing gateway into exploring the future of brain-enhancing drugs. It’s smart (pun intended), witty, and, at the end of the day, relatively ambivalent about the ethics of chemical cognitive enhancement. The film revolves around struggling author Eddy Morra (played by Bradley Cooper). Eddy’s a mess. He can’t write, he’s not looking after himself, and his girlfriend’s just left him. But just as he hits rock bottom, he runs across his former brother-in-law Vernon (Johnny Whitworth).

  Vernon offers Eddy a new experimental drug, NZT-48, which he claims is in human trials and is “FDA-approved” (although he doesn’t say for what). Eddie, having nothing to lose at this point, pops the pill. And the effects are dramatic. Within a matter of seconds, he finds himself thinking faster and more clearly. His memory recall improves dramatically. He can not only absorb more information faster, he can also make better use of what he knows than ever before. And with this, his life dramatically clicks into focus. On NZT, no-hoper Eddie becomes suave, smart, organized, and interesting Enhanced Eddie.

  The trouble is, he only has one pill, so the next day he’s back at Vernon’s, who, it turns out, has problems of his own, namely, some very powerful people who want to get their hands on his supply of NZT.

  Keeping the dramatic tension moving along at a pill-popping pace, Vernon is murdered; Eddie finds and removes his stash of NZT; he starts taking the pills at an increasing rate; and boom—he’s transformed from a failing writer into someone with limitless potential.

  But there’s a problem—a few of them, as it turns out. After the sheer exuberance of being so “together” wears off, Enhanced Eddie hatches a super-smart plan to make a bucketload of cash through day trading, cashing in on his chemically-enhanced intelligence. Using his enhanced memory and his newfound ability to rapidly make sense of stock market patterns and fluctuations, he works out how he can trounce more seasoned traders and make a fortune. But this isn’t simply because he wants to be wealthy. With his supercharged brain, Eddie begins to see a way forward to achieving his dreams of being successful. And here, he realizes that money—and lots of it—is the lever he needs to achieve his success. Perhaps showing a modicum of over-confidence, Eddie borrows a wad of cash from a local thug (played by Andrew Howard) to kick-start his day-trading scheme, and begins to make money hand over fist while staying several steps ahead of a growing storm of hurt behind him.

  Then the blackouts begin. As it turns out, there’s no such thing as a free lunch, even in the world of designer drugs, and this particular wonder drug comes with a steep price. Eddie begins to lose track of where he’s been and what he’s been doing, and it looks like he might have been involved in a murder in one of his blank patches. On top of that, he’s running out of NZT.

  NZT, it turns out, has some rather unpleasant side effects. Use too much, and you begin to blank out. Come off it too fast, and you get sick and die. Wean yourself off it slowly, and you lose your ability to focus. There’s no easy win here once you’re hooked.

  As all this is playing out, Eddie is brokering the deal of a lifetime with corporate kingpin Carl van Loon (Robert de Niro). He’s also trying to stay clear of his loan shark, whom Eddie inadvertently introduced to NZT, and who is now eager for more. And he’s being chased down by a mysterious stranger who, you’ve guessed it, is also after his supply of NZT.

  Following a succession of increasingly tense scenes, Enhanced Eddie eliminates the loan shark and his lackeys, finishes his novel (easy when you’re smart-pilled up), gets back with his girlfriend (Abbie Cornish), runs for a seat in the Senate, and begins to entertain the idea of running for President. And, as he gets his act together, he claims he’s ironed out the links in NZT’s formulation. At the end of the movie, it seems that Eddie’s version of NZT has, in fact, made his potential near-limitless.

  Limitless doesn’t shy away from tackling the risks of cognition-enhancing drugs. But neither does it suggest that their use is inappropriate. Rather, it challenges viewers to think about the pros and cons. Under the surface, though, there are more subtle narratives around the value of intelligence and the meaning of success, as well as a surprisingly sophisticated exploration of the ethics of cognitive enhancement.

  The Seduction of Self-Enhancement

  Intelligence is important; at least, that’s what we’re led to believe. From the moment we’re born—and sometimes from before this, if your parents subjected you to “educational stimuli” in the womb—there is a deep assumption that smarter is better. Educational aids, specia
l schools, gifted and talented programs, cognitive development regimens, tests, grades, certificates, degrees, achievements, prizes; we’re conditioned to believe that, from day zero, the way to succeed in life is to be smart.

  From an evolutionary perspective, this isn’t too surprising. Our particular human brand of intelligence is what differentiates us from our fellow species, including our ability to remember, learn, think, and problem-solve. It’s what led to Homo sapiens forming powerful social groups, learning to farm plants and animals, harnessing water, coal, and electricity, developing synthetic chemicals, creating cyberspace, exploring real space, growing enough food to feed a hungry and expanding world, and plenty more besides. Our history seems to suggest that the secret of our success is, indeed, our smarts. So it’s perhaps natural to think that the pathway to more success is even more intelligence, wherever and however we can find it. And when our evolutionary smarts run out of steam, or we feel we were genetically or socially short-changed, artificially enhanced intelligence begin to look pretty attractive.

  Of course, we enhance our intelligence through artificial means all the time; it’s part of the reason why we’re so phenomenally successful as a species.46 As soon as I Googled “cognitive enhancers” while researching this chapter, I tapped into an artificial aid to supplement my less-than-adequate memory and intellect. Our technology already makes us smarter than our biological brains and bodies allow. And this has been integral to how we’ve survived and grown as a species. We’ve evolved the ability to develop tools and use technologies that vastly amplify our bodies’ innate capabilities. You just need to think about the complex technologies that weave through our lives every day to realize how stupendously powerful is this ability to not only imagine vastly different futures, but use our intellect to create them.

  So why not use this intellect to enhance the very source of our intelligence: the human brain? If we can do everything we’ve achieved so far as a species through using three pounds per person of unenhanced gray matter, imagine what would be possible with an artificially supercharged set of neurons.

  This is such a no-brainer that brain-hacking is now big business. We’re being sold the message through intensive marketing that being smarter than others will give us an advantage, and that we can get smarter through everything from playing brain games to doing brain exercises. And, of course, consuming cognition-enhancing drugs.

  “Peak Performance” is a San Francisco-based meetup organized by the entrepreneur George Burke.47 This eclectic group of individuals gets together regularly to explore ways of improving their bodies’ performance, including (but certainly not limited to) the use of smart drugs. What makes Burke especially interesting is his advocacy for taking cognitive enhancers to keep ahead of the game.

  In a June 2017 article in the Washington Post, Burke acknowledges, “It’s not like every tech worker in Silicon Valley is taking nootropics to get ahead… It’s the few who are getting ahead who are using supplements to do that.”48 Burke takes a daily cocktail of vitamins, minerals, research pharmaceuticals, and a touch of the psychedelic drug LSD. He claims it gets his brain operating at a level that improves his memory, attention, creativity, and motivation.

  Who wouldn’t want this?

  Somewhat ironically, as I’m writing this, I’m fighting against brain fog brought on by burning the candle at both ends while fighting off some insidious virus. As a result, there’s a fog-addled part of my brain that can see the attraction of an intelligence-enhancing pill. Why not order a cocktail or two of these “smart meds”—maybe with a sprinkle of LSD—to clear the cobwebs away? Why not be the writer-genius I could be, at the pop of a pill, rather than the hack I suspect I am? Why not use a chemical aid to access those elusive memories and ideas that are teasing me from beyond the wisps of dullness? What’s to stop me trouncing the competition as brain-hacked “Enhanced Andrew”? Surely Amazon Prime can deliver the appropriate cocktail before I’ve struggled my way through the next paragraph.49

  But what would the downsides be? More to the point—and thinking beyond my own selfish needs—what are the social and ethical pros and cons of taking substances to boost brain performance? This takes us right back to questions raised by the movie Limitless. But first, it’s worth taking a deeper dive into the world of smart drugs and “nootropics.”

  Nootropics

  In 2004, the academic and medical doctor Anjan Chatterjee wrote a review of what he termed “Cosmetic Neurology.”50 He was far from the first person to write about the emergence and ethics of cognitive enhancers, but the piece caught my attention because of its unusual title.

  Chatterjee’s title has its roots in cosmetic surgery, an area fraught with medical angst as surgeons weigh up the pros and cons of desirable, but physiologically unnecessary, surgical interventions. Through the article, Chatterjee grapples with similar challenges as he weighs the benefits and downsides of treatments that don’t cure disease but, rather, extend abilities.

  I’m not sure the term “cosmetic neurology” works. “Cosmetic” has an air of frivolity about it that is far removed from the issues Chatterjee is grappling with here. These include the use of substances to compensate for perceived deficiencies in human performance, such as the ability of pilots to remain alert and perform at their best. In the article, Chatterjee explores a growing number of pharmaceuticals that are known to affect the brain’s operations in ways that can improve aspects of performance, including memory and concentration. And, while he struggles with the ethics of cognitive enhancers, he wonders whether a “better brain” may, one day, be seen as an inalienable right.

  It could be argued, of course, that this has already happened in a world that’s caffeine-fueled by Starbucks, Dunkin’ Donuts, Tim Hortons, and numerous other retail chains offering over-the-counter mental stimulants. For as long as people have known that some substances affect the brain, they’ve been finding ways to make use of these effects, and caffeine is an obvious poster child here. Take the nineteenth-century French writer Honoré de Balzac, for instance. He was well-known for a prolific coffee habit, writing with rather obvious self-awareness that, after drinking the substance,

  [T]he cavalry of metaphor deploys with a magnificent gallop; the artillery of logic rushes up with clattering wagons and cartridges; on imagination’s order, sharpshooters sight and fire…51

  In fact, reading his work, it’s hard to avoid wondering just how caffeined-up he was.

  Although caffeine in the form of tea and coffee is deeply socially normalized these days, there’s a growing market for high-dosage shots to keep the brain alert. Visiting our on-campus one-stop store, there’s a whole array of caffeine-enriched energy drinks and shots that students (and presumably faculty) can use to keep their brains alert. But these are just the visible tip of the iceberg of smart drugs being used on educational campuses the world over.

  For a number of years now, students in particular have been using substances like Adderall, Ritalin, and Provigil to give their brains a boost. These are all regulated substances that are designed for purposes other than getting through college, or finishing the latest class assignment. But that isn’t stopping what is purportedly a thriving black market in pharmaceutical smart pills.

  Adderall is intended for use in treating conditions like attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) and narcolepsy. But there’s a perception that it also increases memory performance and concentration in healthy adults.52 Ritalin (or methylphenidate) is another drug used to treat ADHD that is also used off-label for memory and concentration boosts. Provigil (or modafinil), on the other hand, is aimed specifically at treating sleep disorders, and is used off-label to increase wakefulness and counter fatigue by otherwise healthy adults. It’s also used by the military in a number of countries to keep soldiers alert, and has even reportedly been used by astronauts to stave off fatigue.53

  These and other prescription drugs show measurable effects on concentration and wakefulness in some studies. But th
eir precise impact on performance often depends on who uses them, how they use them, and what they use them for. And in most cases, there are tradeoffs. These may take the form of unwanted short-term side effects and inadequate performance boosts. In some instances, there may actually be long-term impacts on cognitive performance, although the research here is patchy. Yet, despite this, there’s been a steady stream of news articles over the past few years suggesting frequent use among students and professionals in jobs where being smart matters.

  That said, it’s surprisingly tough to get a hard fix on how prevalent this behavior is. A number of studies suggest that up to 50 percent of students in various countries are using some form of artificial means to increase concentration and performance, but these include caffeine-based drinks and tobacco. The number using off-label drugs like modafinil are just a few percent in many of these studies. Despite the published data, though, it’s not uncommon to come across occasional use among students. A few years ago, for instance, I was discussing smart drugs as part of a project with a group of colleagues. At one point, we turned to our student research assistant (someone I didn’t know) and asked whether her peers really were using these substances. She sheepishly reached into her bag and bought out a small pill, “just for when I need it,” she said.

  It’s not just students, though. I regularly come across rumors of faculty members and researchers occasionally using artificial aids to finish a grant proposal or to put an academic publication to bed. In 2008, Barbara Sahakian and Sharon Morein-Zamir published the delightfully-titled commentary “Professor’s little helper” in the journal Nature.54 In their piece, they noted that:

  In academia, we know that a number of our scientific colleagues in the United States and the United Kingdom already use modafinil to counteract the effects of jetlag, to enhance productivity or mental energy, or to deal with demanding and important intellectual challenges.