Anybody out there want to live to be 100? How about 150? The answer to the former question could depend on the age of the petitionee, his or her comfort level, what kind of shape the person’s in. My old pal, Big Ted in Connecticut, used to call me a few times a year looking for horses to bet; starting at age 90, he began telling me he was “going for the Big One,” the Century Mark, and why not? Ted still lived in his own house, had a cook and caretaker and a helpful son living across town to smooth out any rough edges. The creep with the scythe and hoodie managed to sneak up on him at 94 but Ted was still eager for the game. Your answer to the second question is probably: come on, Bill, don’t be absurd.
When we were kids, the thought of living to 100 was a non-starter. Who lived to be 100? Who wanted to? After all, you were old and decrepit at 70, babbling at 80 and sent to the Old Folks Home at 90. If you somehow made it to 100, the balloon man suddenly showed up, you got a birthday party and a letter from the President, then they steered you back to Solitary. See you again in 100 years.
When we were all revolutionaries in our twenties, a guy named Jack Weinberg became temporarily famous by advising us “Don’t trust anyone over 30.” Thirty was old, man. But not for long. Before we knew it, we were thirty and we tossed Jack into history’s dustpile. Thirty was a watershed year for many of us, time to get serious, life was frittering away. For the first time, we began thinking about how much of it was left. Two-thirds, if we were lucky. Real lucky. Some people hid in dark corners. A few, like Woody Allen, became apoplectic.
By 30, of course, several people had retreated into parenthood. Didn’t matter what happened to them, any more, the important thing was the children. Others had fallen into the clutches of one or another of our vast menu of religions, most of which promised delightfully tasty Pie In The Sky if everybody would only behave here on Earth. Oh, and don’t forget the tithing, wouldn’t want God deducting merit points. Islam even promised its male martyrs a passel of virgins in the afterlife, not likely attainable in everyday Iskandariyyah. So, on occasion, death might even be preferable to life. Oh. Well, then.
The Christians, of course, were right in step with this philosophy. You didn’t get virgins, of course, when you died, but you might get (cue the harpsichords)….HEAVEN! Such a deal. As all Catholic schoolchildren knew from perusing their gleaming catechisms, Heaven was the place to be, especially considering the Alternative. In Heaven, you got God, fluffy clouds, angels playing hot tunes and ETERNAL Life. (It’s only fair to mention that you got Eternal Life in that other place, too, with the notable difference of surly flames constantly licking at your heels and a steady diet of Black Sabbath music.) You’ve got to hand it to Organized Religion—every business needs a product to sell and how much does it cost to assemble a box of False Hope?
Cocoon
In 1985, when most of us were shaking hands with Middle Age, our old pal, Opie—otherwise known as Ron Howard—directed a hopeful little movie called Cocoon, which was filmed in and around St. Petersburg. It was a wonderful piece of work with a great cast, earning two Academy Awards, one for Best Visual Effects and one for Best Supporting Actor (Don Ameche). The movie revolves around the residents of the Sunny Shores Retirement Home, notably Ben (Wilford Brimley), Joe (Hume Cronyn) and Arthur (Ameche), who discover an unused swimming pool in the empty house next door and begin trespassing to use the pool.
Unbeknownst to the trio, the house is rented by aliens from the planet Antarea who, 10,000 years ago, set up an Earth outpost on Atlantis. When Atlantis sank, twenty aliens were left behind, kept alive in large rock-like cocoons at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. Now, a group of Antareans has come Earth to collect them. Disguising themselves as humans, they rent the house and pool, then insert the cocoons, charging the water with a “life force” to give the cocooned Antareans enough energy to survive the trip home.
The result of the daily swims on our heroes is remarkable. Absorbing the life force, every day they feel younger, stronger. Jack’s cancer mysteriously disappears. Ben’s vision becomes clear, allowing him to drive a car again. The trio begins chasing women around the place and even catching a few. Unfortunately, the other residents become aware of the healing powers of the pool and things quickly go awry. Long story short, the Antareans eventually offer the residents a home on their planet, where they will never grow older or die. Many, but not all, accept. The film provides a brilliant background for a wry conversation on aging, depression, loss of physical prowess, body-image, renewed hope and death. The arguments for leaving and remaining on Earth are both meritorious and well-considered. The choice is not as automatic as one may think. All things considered, I’m leaning to Antares. I could be pushed over the hump if they’d throw in that passel of virgins.
Extending Life
Out in Palo Alto, California, in the heart of Silicon Valley, hedge-fund manager Joon Yun is busily at work. Yun thinks people could live a lot longer, maybe even 1000 years, and he’s putting his money where his thoughts are. Late last year, he offered a one million dollar prize challenging scientists to “hack the code of life” and push the human lifespan past its apparent maximum of 120 years. His Palo Alto Longevity Prize, which 15 scientific teams have already chosen to pursue, will be awarded to the first group which can restore vitality and expand lifespan in mice by 50%. Yun has deep pockets and expects to put up more money for progressively greater feats.
Yun’s quest for the Fountain of Youth is emblematic of the current enthusiasm to disrupt death sweeping Silicon Valley. In September 2013, Google announced the creation of Calico, short for the California Life Company, whose mission is to reverse-engineer the biology that controls lifespan. In April 2014, Calico recruited Cynthia Keaton, a scientist acclaimed for work that included genetically engineering roundworms to live up to six times longer than normal, who dreams of applying her discoveries to humans. “Calico has the money to do almost anything it wants,” says Tom Johnson, an earlier pioneer in the field now at the University of Colorado.
In March 2014, pioneering American biologist and technologist Craig Venter, along with tech entrepreneur Peter Diamandis, announced a new company called Human Longevity Inc., which plans to create a giant database of 1 million genome sequences by 2020, including those from supercentenarians. The data should cast a new light on what makes for a longer, healthier life.
James Kirkland, a researcher who studies aging at the Mayo Clinic, says he knows of about 20 drugs now—more than six of which have been written up in scientific journals—that extended the lifespan or healthspan of mice.
Robert A. Freitas, Jr., senior research fellow at the Institute for Molecular Manufacturing, believes nanorobotic control of human aging is now of great relevance to our present-day medical reality. Freitas forecasts that medically active microscopic machines will be sent on missions of cellular inspection, repairing and reconstructing whole cells. The global market for nanodevices is expected to reach 8.6 billion this year and is climbing fast. If you build it, they will come.
Freitas has also designed a nanorobotic red blood cell which is a relatively simple device for storing and releasing oxygen and carbon dioxide. A conservative analysis illustrates that if you were to replace ten percent of your red blood cells with these robotic versions, you could do an Olympic sprint for fifteen minutes or sit at the bottom of your pool for four hours.
While many disagree, Craig Venter is an optimist. “I don’t see any absolute biological limit on human age,” he says, arguing that cellular immortality—in effect, running the clock backwards--should be possible.
In an office not far from Google’s headquarters in Mountain View, author/gerontologist Aubrey de Grey, Chief Science Officer of the SENS Research Foundation, is enjoying the new buzz about the ultimate defeat of aging. For more than a decade, he has been on a crusade to inspire mankind to embark on a scientific quest to eliminate aging and extend healthy lifespan indefinitely. It’s a difficult job because de Grey considers the world to be in a “pro-aging trance,” happy to accept that aging is unavoidable when the reality is that it’s simply a medical problem which science can solve. Just as a vintage car can be kept in good condition indefinitely with periodic preventative maintenance, there is no reason why, in principle, the same can’t be true of the human body, says de Grey. “We are, after all, biological machines.” And then Aubrey de Grey adds his famous zinger: “The first person who will live to 1000 years is probably already alive.” Somehow, alas, I’m thinking it’s not one of us.
(Material for this section from The Guardian and Life Extension magazine)
The Uber Citizens
So what’s in it for the old guys? It’s easy to see a future where Aubrey de Grey’s vision is realized; if not a society of thousand-year-olds, then certainly one with the potential to vastly expand the current age horizons. Potent new anti-aging drugs will appear, as will vast organ farms. Cancer will be reined in, along with most other plagues. Maybe we were born too soon, barely missing our pass under the limbo stick of expanded life. Then again, maybe not.
Ray Kurzweil is one of the world’s leading inventors, thinkers and futurists. Called “The Restless Genius” by the Wall Street Journal, and “the ultimate thinking machine” by Forbes magazine, Kurzweil’s ideas on the future have been touted by his many fans, ranging from Bill Clinton to Bill Gates. Time Magazine writes “Kurzweil’s eclectic career and propensity of combining science with practical—often humanitarian—applications have inspired comparisons with Thomas Edison.” A recipient of the National Medal of Technology and an inductee in the National Inventors Hall of Fame, Kurzweil is also the author of several books, which includes Live Long Enough To Live Forever. In that one, he makes his Ultimate Statement: “If a person can hang on for fifteen years, practical immortality is possible.”
I can hear the refrain from most of my friends—”NOW he tells us!” Come on, guys—we can do it! A lot more exercise, a little less beer. Put away that extra jelly doughnut and grab a kale sandwich. And don’t worry about the Social Security running out, you’ll be back laying track in no time. This is going to be great! I can hardly wait to be 21 again. Or 35. Or 57, even. Is the surf up yet at Waimea Bay? Are the Ramones in town? Is it too late to move to Colorado? Let’s fill up the Mustang and hit the road! What’s that, Maw? Um, no—let’s hold off on that. We don’t want to be getting rid of the Viagra just yet….
That’s all, folks….
