Living Forever

Black Mirror, Season 2, Episode 1: Through an accident, Martha, a young woman working as an illustrator in an English country house, loses her friend Ash. Martha subsequently sinks into grief and loneliness, until one day she hears of a new possibility to get her deceased friend back: she has a humanoid doll delivered to her that not only looks exactly like the real Ash, but – based on all the communication and interaction that Ash's mobile phone "overheard" during his lifetime – mimics his speech patterns with perfect accuracy. (Spoiler alert! Martha does not become happy with the digital Ash, who no longer has all the weaknesses, the humanity, but whose artificial intelligence constantly asks Martha for feedback and in this self-optimisation seems boring, a bit creepy and simply not like the real Ash.)

A portion Science paired with a pinch of Fiction: The makers of Black Mirror like to play with ethical questions that could be raised by new technology in the not-too-distant future and whose answers are not yet known. Of course, it often leads to drama, with characters finding themselves in dystopias. One example is the question of the immortality of a digital self. This is one extreme, which is what this article is about. The other, the voluntary premature ending of life, is already permitted in some of Germany's neighbouring countries. Extension of life as a digital clone on one side, assisted dying on the other – here an overview of what is already possible and what might come our way.

Life-support machines: "On" or "Off"? In the Netherlands or Switzerland, it is legal to have such machines switched off. Certain conditions must be met for this, in particular the hopelessness of recovery. A corresponding medical opinion must be drawn up by a doctor and confirmed by a second. In the Netherlands, the number of people who allow themselves to be helped to die increases every year. In the meantime, criticism of the liberal approach to death has even emerged: some doctors complain under pressure to issue an opinion even in cases of less serious or controversial (e.g. mental) suffering. So do Germans for whom life has become nothing but torment simply have to cross the border to end their suffering? Not quite, because German legislation distinguishes between different types of assisted dying: there is passive, indirect and active assisted dying as well as assistance with suicide. Only the active form is a criminal offence under §216 of the Criminal Code. In the case of passive assisted dying, German doctors need not fear criminal prosecution, particularly if an advance directive is in place. This form could be simplified as "allowing to die". Since the artificial prolongation of life through machines can be regarded as unnatural when the patient shows no prospect of improvement, suffers severe pain or is no longer conscious, this interpretation of the law seems reasonable. It is advisable to discuss this delicate matter with your closest relatives and make arrangements. 

The vast majority will hopefully not suffer unbearably and incurably at the end of life. Rather, there will certainly be some for whom the end seems to come too soon. Or there are relatives (like Martha) who find it so difficult to say goodbye that bringing back a deceased person in the form of a digital clone no longer seems like a pipe dream from Silicon Valley, but like a serious alternative. Some companies have already presented prototypes; a pioneer was the now defunct American company Intellitar ("Intelligent Avatar"). Other companies, such as eterni.me, have taken up the idea. The software works similarly to a voice assistant (Siri, Alexa, etc.): bereaved relatives can talk to a computer, which mimics both the speech pattern in terms of sound, dialect, etc., and the thought content. The more input the person who wishes to be digitally preserved has fed into the programme, the more the avatar corresponds to the real person. 

Simulating a person's character with deceptive authenticity will probably be possible at some point. Perhaps there will also be avatars consisting of artificial bones, with synthetic skin and hair, into which this simulation is implanted as a kind of software and which then replace real people in our world. Like good old Ash. It is completely unclear how one would have to deal with it if such an avatar committed a crime. Putting it in prison does not really make sense, because as a machine, which it ultimately is, it does not feel boredom, at least not real boredom. Only boredom that has been taught to it by an algorithm. Or does it perhaps make sense precisely because imprisonment as the ultimate redemption is exactly right for an AI craving feedback? That way it would learn quite easily what it did wrong. Or do digital clones not commit crimes? Then they would again be poor copies of their real counterparts, at least those in which violence and hatred exist. The thought labyrinth has now opened up for you.

What if you turn the tables? What if brain research advances to the point where it becomes possible to extract the "self" of a human being and in turn build it into a simulation? This would offer the possibility of catching up on everything missed in a virtual world or at least trying to do so. Perhaps there will even be a mixture of the two extremes: the physical body is on a drip, a catheter is in the digestive tract. Cell rejuvenation treatments slow down the ageing process. At the same time, consciousness is immersed in the most fantastic maps: on unspoilt beaches, in paradisiacal cities, in outer space. Or even in a motorway simulator. Whatever you fancy. Or perhaps we should also acknowledge the transience of life.

Andreas Jäger