Why we need a national commitment to basic scientific research
Today was my daughter's last day at her preschool. They had a little goodbye ceremony for her. Decry, if you will, the rise in "graduation" ceremonies for every grade level from birth to 12th grade, but they sure are cute little ceremonies. (Be patient! I'll get to the part about basic research.)
I haven't visited her school much, because of course she goes while I'm at work, and it's my wife who ends up taking her there. It's a preschool that serves a lot of kids with special needs. There was a kid in my daughter's class--I'll call him Chip--who is maybe two years old. He was doing what two year olds do: walking around, playing, bumping into things, and standing around looking confused.
Cute kid. At first I didn't even notice his hands. But then I did. On one side, his forearm never developed. His hand connects at an awkward angle to the end of his upper arm, and it's clear he has no control of that hand. On the other side, his arm mostly developed, except for his thumb. I could see the dark purple scars from surgery he'd had to move his index finger so it can function like a thumb.
An immobile and inconveniently placed hand on one side, three fingers and a pseudo-thumb on the other. And I couldn't help thinking what a hard life this kid is going to have. He's lucky, he's at a preschool where they know how to help kids with special needs do the best with what they have. Most kids with similar congenital issues around the world wouldn't get any help.
But still, I couldn’t help think "what a hard life Chip is going to have." Gradeschool and high school are going to be hell for him. You know how kids are. His whole life, he's going to have to work harder and struggle more just to do the things everyone else takes for granted. He'll be fighting to overcome fear and prejudices from others around him, every day, just because his body came out differently than theirs.
But then I remembered Amiee Mullins. Her story is, if anything, more heartbreaking and yet astonishingly inspiring. She was born with no shin bones, had her feet amputated in infancy. Now she's a record-holding runner (yes, really), model (yes, really), actress (yes, really), and outspoken advocate on behalf of the potential of people in all their many forms. To watch her walk around on a stage on her prosthetic legs, delivering a riveting speech about her experiences, you'd never know she was any different than you or me.
And then I remembered Dean Kamen, famous inventor of the Segway two-wheeled mobility platform, talking about his recent efforts to build high-functioning prosthetic arms for vets coming back from Iraq and Afghanistan who have lost the ones nature gave them.
And I thought to myself about how fast technology is advancing, in engineered materials that are light, strong, flexible, and extensible. In new battery systems that are lighter, safer, greener, but still hold a lot of power. In the continuing miniaturization of computer systems, advances in robotics, and human/computer interfaces.
And then I realized that I was probably wrong about Chip. I won't, honestly, be all that surprised if in five years or ten years, all these technologies come together through the passion and brilliance of people like Dean Kamen and give Chip prosthetic arms that will be every bit as useful and natural looking as yours or mine.
Chip's particular challenges are ones for which we can see the solution coming. And that's a wonderful thing. But think about how many other challenges other people face--people with neuro-degenerative diseases like Parkinson's or Alzheimer's, paraplegics and quadriplegics with spinal cord injuries. People with failing organs or rheumatoid arthritis.
None of the technologies I listed, ones that will help people like Chip and Aimee, were originally developed for those purposes. But then, Velcro wasn't invented to make it easy for toddlers to get their own shoes on, either. They were all developed for entirely different purposes, and it was only later that their relevance to alleviating human suffering became evident.
Which is why I say we need a renewed national commitment to basic scientific research, because none of it happens without basic research. We don't know what we can achieve until we know what's possible--what the physical rules of the universe will allow--and we won't know what's possible until we look.
We need scientific and technological advances for many very practical and obvious reasons. We need advances in materials science so we can build better buildings and more fuel efficient vehicles. We need advances in energy storage technology in order to make green energy sources like solar and wind economically viable. We need advances in computers to enable us to solve complex problems in physics, chemistry, and molecular biology. We need advances in robotics in order to free people from the dangers and drudgery of all the dirty jobs no human being should have to do.
We need those advances for all the obvious reasons. But we also need them, and so many others too, because they will also work miracles in reducing human suffering.
We need them because they will help kids like Chip to really live.
I haven't visited her school much, because of course she goes while I'm at work, and it's my wife who ends up taking her there. It's a preschool that serves a lot of kids with special needs. There was a kid in my daughter's class--I'll call him Chip--who is maybe two years old. He was doing what two year olds do: walking around, playing, bumping into things, and standing around looking confused.
Cute kid. At first I didn't even notice his hands. But then I did. On one side, his forearm never developed. His hand connects at an awkward angle to the end of his upper arm, and it's clear he has no control of that hand. On the other side, his arm mostly developed, except for his thumb. I could see the dark purple scars from surgery he'd had to move his index finger so it can function like a thumb.
An immobile and inconveniently placed hand on one side, three fingers and a pseudo-thumb on the other. And I couldn't help thinking what a hard life this kid is going to have. He's lucky, he's at a preschool where they know how to help kids with special needs do the best with what they have. Most kids with similar congenital issues around the world wouldn't get any help.
But still, I couldn’t help think "what a hard life Chip is going to have." Gradeschool and high school are going to be hell for him. You know how kids are. His whole life, he's going to have to work harder and struggle more just to do the things everyone else takes for granted. He'll be fighting to overcome fear and prejudices from others around him, every day, just because his body came out differently than theirs.
But then I remembered Amiee Mullins. Her story is, if anything, more heartbreaking and yet astonishingly inspiring. She was born with no shin bones, had her feet amputated in infancy. Now she's a record-holding runner (yes, really), model (yes, really), actress (yes, really), and outspoken advocate on behalf of the potential of people in all their many forms. To watch her walk around on a stage on her prosthetic legs, delivering a riveting speech about her experiences, you'd never know she was any different than you or me.
And then I remembered Dean Kamen, famous inventor of the Segway two-wheeled mobility platform, talking about his recent efforts to build high-functioning prosthetic arms for vets coming back from Iraq and Afghanistan who have lost the ones nature gave them.
And I thought to myself about how fast technology is advancing, in engineered materials that are light, strong, flexible, and extensible. In new battery systems that are lighter, safer, greener, but still hold a lot of power. In the continuing miniaturization of computer systems, advances in robotics, and human/computer interfaces.
And then I realized that I was probably wrong about Chip. I won't, honestly, be all that surprised if in five years or ten years, all these technologies come together through the passion and brilliance of people like Dean Kamen and give Chip prosthetic arms that will be every bit as useful and natural looking as yours or mine.
Chip's particular challenges are ones for which we can see the solution coming. And that's a wonderful thing. But think about how many other challenges other people face--people with neuro-degenerative diseases like Parkinson's or Alzheimer's, paraplegics and quadriplegics with spinal cord injuries. People with failing organs or rheumatoid arthritis.
None of the technologies I listed, ones that will help people like Chip and Aimee, were originally developed for those purposes. But then, Velcro wasn't invented to make it easy for toddlers to get their own shoes on, either. They were all developed for entirely different purposes, and it was only later that their relevance to alleviating human suffering became evident.
Which is why I say we need a renewed national commitment to basic scientific research, because none of it happens without basic research. We don't know what we can achieve until we know what's possible--what the physical rules of the universe will allow--and we won't know what's possible until we look.
We need scientific and technological advances for many very practical and obvious reasons. We need advances in materials science so we can build better buildings and more fuel efficient vehicles. We need advances in energy storage technology in order to make green energy sources like solar and wind economically viable. We need advances in computers to enable us to solve complex problems in physics, chemistry, and molecular biology. We need advances in robotics in order to free people from the dangers and drudgery of all the dirty jobs no human being should have to do.
We need those advances for all the obvious reasons. But we also need them, and so many others too, because they will also work miracles in reducing human suffering.
We need them because they will help kids like Chip to really live.
# Posted by Jason Black : 3:02 PM
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