As Ford CEO, Jim Farley, announced on a live airing of CNBC Investing ClubThursday, “we are completely oversubscribed with our battery electric vehicles, Lightning especially.”
“We had to stop reservations we got so many,” he added. “We stopped at 200,000, and those are orders. Hard orders.” That's unlike the Maverick, which saw 100,000 reservations in the first two months after its debut but did not require potential buyers to actually put down a cash deposit so anyone could add their name to the list, financially risk-free.
Even with this newly installed cap, Ford faces a significant production challenge. Farley noted during the show that full production capacity for the Lightning currently sits at “70,000 or 80,000 units." Don't fret if you're already on the reservation list, Ford is already looking for ways to boost its EV output.
“We’re going to try to double that,” Farley told CNBC host Jim Cramer. “We’ve done it in the past. Don’t bet against Ford when we have to increase capacity. This is what we do.”
Initial deliveries for the F-150 Lightning are slated for the middle of 2022.
As robots have steadily expanded their operations out of the controlled environments of research labs and into the chaos of real-world architectural infrastructure, getting from point A to point B has become a major challenge — take stairs, for example. In response, roboticists have developed a number of solutions, from installing rotors so that the robot can helicopter over obstacles or, in Boston Dynamics case, execute backflips that would give Simone Biles pause. And then there's Daniele Pucci, head of the Artificial and Mechanical Intelligence lab at the Italian Institute of Technology, who has taken the audacious step of strapping a fully functional jetpack akin to what Richard Browning developed onto the back of an iRonCub synthetic humanoid with hopes of eventually blasting it into the sky.
You'd think we'd have learned our lesson about the dangers of building aerial humanoid robots after our first time through Age of Ultron but Pucci's team believes that such systems could one day act as first responders to the roughly 300 natural disasters that kill around 90,000 people worldwide annually. We've seen a slew of disaster response bots — some humanoid, some not so much — emerge from labs for more than a decade, often with varying degrees of success.
Humanoid robots have an advantage over both more esoteric builds and traditional UAVs when it comes to disaster response because they can more easily manipulate a world, which is already designed for human use. However when a natural disaster strikes, much of that human-centric infrastructure could become damaged or otherwise rendered impassable, which negates many of the humanoid robot's initial advantages. But by combining a humanoid design with the capability of flight, Pucci's team can leverage the best aspects of both technologies.
"Aerial Humanoid Robotics unifies aerial manipulation and humanoid robotics. By doing so, aerial humanoid robots overcome the lack of terrestrial locomotion of aerial manipulators and extend the locomotion capabilities of humanoid robots to the flight case. Aerial humanoid robots can then walk, fly, manipulate and transport objects, thus offering energetically efficient solutions to payload transportation and object manipulation," the IIT team wrote in 2019.
"Aerial humanoid robotics extends aerial manipulation to a more robust and energy efficient level. In fact, aerial manipulation is often exemplified by quadrotors equipped with a robotic arm," Pucci told IEEE Spectrum. "These robots can’t move around by means of contact forces with the environment, and they often struggle with flying in windy environments while manipulating an object, requiring precise position control for accomplishing manipulation tasks. So the extra hand of a flying humanoid robot could establish a contact point between the robot and the environment, thus making the robot position control simpler and more robust."
"I truly believe that aerial humanoid robotics can be used as a test-bed for actuated flying exoskeletons for human beings," he continued. "The recent successful story of Richard Browning shows the engineering feasibility of these futuristic actuated exoskeletons. However, the journey in front of us is still long, and we can use flying humanoid robots to boost this journey and avoid lots of tests on humans."
Moderating content on today’s internet is akin to a round of Whack-A-Mole with human moderators continually forced to react in realtime to changing trends, such as vaccine mis- and disinformation or intentional bad actors probing for ways around established personal conduct policies. Machine learning systems can help alleviate some of this burden by automating the policy enforcement process, however modern AI systems often require months of lead time to properly train and deploy (time mostly spent collecting and annotating the thousands, if not millions of, necessary examples). To shorten that response time, at least to a matter of weeks rather than months, Meta’s AI research group (formerly FAIR) has developed a more generalized technology that requires just a handful of specific examples in order to respond to new and emerging forms of malicious content, called Few-Shot Learner (FSL).
Few-shot learning is a relatively recent development in AI, essentially teaching the system to make accurate predictions based on a limited number of training examples — quite the opposite of conventional supervised learning methods. For example, if you wanted to train a standard SL model to recognize pictures of rabbits, you feed it a couple hundred thousands of rabbit pictures and then you can present it with two images and ask if they both show the same animal. Thing is, the model doesn’t know if the two pictures are of rabbits because it doesn’t actually know what a rabbit is. That’s because the model’s purpose isn’t to spot rabbits, the model’s purpose is to look for similarities and differences between the presented images and predict whether or not the things displayed are the same. There is no larger context for the model to work within, which makes it only good for telling “rabbits” apart — it can’t tell you if it’s looking at an image of a rabbit, or of a lion, or of a John Cougar Mellencamp, just that those three entities are not the same thing.
FSL relies far less on labelled data (i.e. pictures of rabbits) in favor of a generalized system, more akin to how humans learn than conventional AIs. “It’s first trained on billions of generic and open-source language examples,” per a Wednesday Meta blog post. “Then, the AI system is trained with integrity-specific data we’ve labeled over the years. Finally, it’s trained on condensed text explaining a new policy.” And unlike the rabbit-matching model above, FSL “is pretrained on both general language and integrity-specific language so it can learn the policy text implicitly.”
Recent tests of the FSL system have proven encouraging. Meta researchers looked at the change in prevalence of harmful content shown to Facebook and Instagram users before and after FSL’s activation on the sites. The system both found harmful content that conventional SL models had missed and reduced the prevalence of that content in general. The FSL system reportedly outperformed other few-shot models by as much as 55 percent (though only 12 percent on average).
Meta
FSL’s improved performance is thanks in part to entailment, defined as “the act or fact of entailing, or involving by necessity or as a consequence.” It’s essentially a logical consequence between two sentences — if sentence A is true, then sentence B must also be true. For example, if sentence A is “The President was assassinated,” then it entails that sentence B, “the President is dead,” is also true, accurate and correct. By leveraging entailment in the FSL system, the team is able to “convert the class label into a natural language sentence which can be used to describe the label, and determine if the example entails the label description,” Meta AI researchers explained. So instead of trying to generalize what a conventional SL model knows from its training set (hundreds of thousands of rabbit pics) to the test set (“are these two images of rabbits?”), the FSL model can more broadly recognize harmful content when it sees it, because it understands the policy that the content violates.
The added flexibility of having a “single, shared knowledge base and backbone” could one day enable AI moderation systems to recognize and react to new forms of harmful content far more quickly, catch more content that just barely skirts around current policies and even help Meta develop and better define future policies.
Scientific research and technological advancement have gone hand-in-hand since the invention of the wheel. Without research, we lack the knowledge base to advance the state of technology and, without technological advancement we lack the functional base for further scientific exploration. In their new book, The Genesis of Technoscientific Revolutions, Harvard University Professor of Technology and Public Policy, Venkatesh Narayanamurti, and Sandia National Laboratories Senior Scientist, Jeffrey Y. Tsao, explore the symbiotic relationship between these two concepts and how their interaction might be modulated to better serve the rapidly accelerating pace of 21st century technoscientific discovery.
The Network Is Hierarchical: The Nesting of Questions and Answers
The way in which scientific and technological knowledge are hierarchical stems from the nesting discussed in the last chapter, both of scientific facts and explanations and of technological functions and the forms that fulfill them.
Harvard University Press
In science, at the top of the hierarchy are facts — raw patterns in observed phenomena. These patterns can be thought of as questions: Why does a particular pattern occur? Why when one releases a ball does the ball fall and fall faster the farther it has fallen? Explanations of those raw patterns come a level below in the hierarchy, and can be thought of as answers to those questions: Galileo’s sixteenth-century explanation of the observed distance-versus-time pattern was that the velocities of falling balls increase linearly with time. But this answer, or explanation, becomes itself another question: Why do the velocities of falling balls increase linearly with time? This question begs a deeper explanation, a deeper answer: Newton’s explanation was that gravity is a force, that uniform forces cause uniform acceleration, and that uniform acceleration causes linear increases in velocity. Scientific understanding is always incomplete, of course, so there is always a point at which we have no deeper explanation. This in no way detracts from the power of the explanations that do exist: science seeks proximate whys but does not insist on ultimate whys. The general theory of relativity explains Newton’s laws of gravity, even if its own origin is yet to be explained.
In technology, at the top of the hierarchy are human-desired functions. These functions present problems that are solved by forms below them in the hierarchy. Forms fulfill functions, but those forms present new problems that must be solved at successively deeper levels. Shifting from the problem-solution nomenclature to the equivalent question-answer nomenclature, we can say that the iPhone represented a technological question: How do we create an Internet-capable cellular phone with a software-programmable interactive display? A partial answer came in the form of multi touch capacitive surfaces, opening up a significant design space for user interaction when multiple fingers are used simultaneously. But the opaqueness of existing multitouch surfaces itself became a question: How do we make multi touch surfaces transparent so that the display is visible? The multi touch transparent surface display provided an answer.
In other words, science and technology are both organized into hierarchies of question-and-answer pairs, with any question or answer having two “faces.” One face, pointing downward in the hierarchy, represents a question to an answer just below it in the hierarchy. The other face, pointing upward in the hierarchy, represents an answer to a question just above it in the hierarchy. We emphasize that our depiction of questions as “above” answers and answers as “below” questions is arbitrary — it does not signify relative importance or value but is simply intended to be consistent with common usage. In science, an explanation is deeper and more “foundational” than the fact it explains, especially if it generalizes to explanations of many other facts. Special relativity is, in that sense, deeper than the constancy of c because it answers the question of why c is constant; it also answers the question of how much energy is released during nuclear fission and fusion. In technology, forms are deeper and more “foundational” than the functions they fulfill, especially if they have been adapted to fulfill many other functions. The multi touch transparent surface display is more foundational than the iPhone because it not only helps answer the question of how to create the iPhone, but also helps answer the question of how to create human-interactive displays in general. Rubber is more foundational than a bicycle tire because it not only helps answer the question of how to create a bicycle tire, but also helps answer the question of how to create a myriad of other kinds of tires.
The Network Is Modular: Facilitating Exploitation and Exploration
Closely related scientific questions and answers are organized into what we might call scientific domains, which we will refer to as scientific knowledge modules. Closely interacting technological problems and solutions are organized into engineered components, which we will refer to as technological knowledge modules.
Harvard University Press
Closely related scientific questions are often answerable within a scientific knowledge domain, or scientific knowledge module, drawing on multiple subdomains nested within the larger domain. A question related to some electron transport phenomenon in a particular semiconductor structure lies in the broad domain of semiconductor science but the answer might require an integrated understanding of both the subdomain of electron transport physics as well as the subdomain of the materials science of the synthesized structure. The subquestion associated with electron transport physics might require an integrated understanding of the subdomain of electrons in various kinds of structures (bulk materials, heterojunctions, nanostructures, coupled nanostructures) and of the sub-subdomains of interactions of electrons with phonons in those structures. The subquestion associated with the materials science of the synthesized structure might require an understanding of the sub-subdomains of substrates and epitaxy, thin films, or post materials synthesis fabrication. In other words, we can think of scientific knowledge domains as a modular hierarchy, and think of its subdomains as submodules and sub-submodules.
Closely related technological problems, likewise, are often solved by key technological components, or technological knowledge modules, perhaps integrating multiple subcomponents nested within the larger components. An iPhone is a component itself composed of many subcomponents, and each subcomponent is similarly subdivided. We can think of the “problem” of the iPhone as a component that is “solved” by its subcomponents — an enclosure, a display, a printed circuit board, a camera, and input / output ports. We can think of the “problem” of a printed circuit board as a subcomponent that is “solved” by sub-components that include low-power integrated circuit chips. Conversely, an iPhone is also a component that is itself nested in a hierarchy of use functions. An iPhone might be used as a solution to the problem of “running” a text-messaging app; a text-messaging app might be used as a solution to the problem of sending a mass text message to a friend group; the mass text message might be used as a solution to the problem of organizing the friend group into a protest in Times Square; and the protest in Times Square might be part of a solution to the problem of organizing a wider social movement for some human-desired social cause.
One might ask: Why is scientific and technological knowledge modular? They are modular because they are complex adaptive systems — systems sustained by and adapted to their environment by complex internal changes — and virtually all complex adaptive systems are modular (Simon, 1962). Complex adaptive systems both exploit their environments and explore their environments to improve that exploitation. Modularity enables efficiency, both in the exploitation of existing knowledge about the environment and exploration of that environment to create new knowledge.
Following October's news that Jeff Bezos' Blue Origin spaceflight company planned to build its own commercial space station in low Earth orbit, NASA announced on Thursday it has selected the program for funding through a Space Act Agreement to further develop the the station's design. The funding is part of NASA’s Commercial LEO Development program, which aims to "develop a robust commercial space economy in LEO, including supporting the development of commercially owned and operated LEO destinations."
Blue Origin
“We are pleased that NASA supports the development of Orbital Reef, a revolutionary approach to making Earth orbit more accessible to diverse customers and industries,” Brent Sherwood, Senior Vice President of Advanced Development Programs for Blue Origin, said in a prepared statement. The station would be an orbital "mixed-use space business park" that would offer any number of turnkey services as well as reduced operational costs for burgeoning low-g industries "in addition to meeting the ISS partners’ needs."
Blue Origin is partnering with Sierra Space in this project with the former focusing on the architecture and infrastructure of the station — everything from its design and construction to managing lift logistics using the New Glenn heavy launch system — while the latter is tasked with developing the station's LIFE (Large Integrated Flexible Environment). Boeing is also helping out, designing the operations-maintenance-science module and leveraging its Starliner crew capsule. Genesis Engineering Solutions is involved as well. It's working on a single person spacecraft that tourists and employees alike will be able to putter around in.
Thursday's announcement, ironically, comes a the end of a year in which Blue Origin protested NASA's “fundamentally unfair” decision to award a lunar lander contract to rival SpaceX to the GAO, which quickly dismissed the claims. Blue Origin then sued NASA — literally, sued NASA —"in an attempt to remedy the flaws in the acquisition process found in NASA's Human Landing System," a spokesperson for Blue Origin told Engadget in August. The company subsequently lost that suit as well but, hopefully, Thursday's deal will serve as a balm for Bezos' critically wounded ego.
Northrop Grumman
The Orbital Reef team hopes to have its first modules in orbit by the end of the decade with further expansions happening throughout the 2030s. But Orbital Reef isn't the only egg in NASA's commercial LEO basket. Northrop Grumman announced on Thursday that it too had signed a Space Act Agreement — to the tune of $126 million — to design a "free flying" space station that will be a permanent presence in LEO for at least 15 years.
"Our station will enable a smooth transition from International Space Station-based LEO missions to sustainable commercial-based missions where NASA does not bear all the costs, but serves as one of many customers,” Steve Krein, Northrop Grumman's vice president of civil and commercial space, said in a statement. The company plans to leverage its existing Cygnus spacecraft, its Mission Extension Vehicle (MEV) and its Habitation and Logistics Outpost (HALO), as the basis for the station's design.
As part of its agreement with NASA, these development proposals will have to account for every aspect of the station's "commercialization, operations and capabilities," according to Northrop Grumman, "as well as space station requirements, mission success criteria, risk assessments, key technical and market analysis requirements, and preliminary design activities."
We've heard the fable of "the self-made billionaire" a thousand times: some unrecognized genius toiling away in a suburban garage stumbles upon The Next Big Thing, thereby single-handedly revolutionizing their industry and becoming insanely rich in the process — all while comfortably ignoring the fact that they'd received $300,000 in seed funding from their already rich, politically-connected parents to do so.
In The Warehouse: Workers and Robots at Amazon, Alessandro Delfanti, associate professor at the University of Toronto and author of Biohackers: The Politics of Open Science, deftly examines the dichotomy between Amazon's public personas and its union-busting, worker-surveilling behavior in fulfillment centers around the world — and how it leverages cutting edge technologies to keep its employees' collective noses to the grindstone, pissing in water bottles. In the excerpt below, Delfanti examines the way in which our current batch of digital robber barons lean on the classic redemption myth to launder their images into that of wonderkids deserving of unabashed praise.
Pluto Press
This is an excerpt from The Warehouse: Workers and Robots at Amazon by Alessandro Delfanti, available now from Pluto Press.
Besides the jobs, trucks and concrete, what Amazon brought to Piacenza and to the dozens of other suburban areas which host its warehouses is a myth: a promise of modernization, economic development, and even individual emancipation that stems from the “disruptive” nature of a company heavily based on the application of new technology to both consumption and work. It is a promise that assumes that the society in question is willing to entrust such ambitions to the gigantic multinational corporations that design, implement, and possess technology. This myth of digital capitalism is based on a number of elements, including magical origins, heroes, and stories of redemption. Some are by now familiar to everyone: A couple of teenagers tinkering away in a garage can revolutionize or create from scratch an entire industry, generating billions in the process. The garage is an important component of this myth. Here we are not talking about the garages where MXP5 workers park their cars after a ten-hour shift in the warehouse, nor about the garages where Amazon Flex couriers store piles of boxes to be delivered. The innovation garage is the site where individuals unbounded by old habits and funded by venture capital turn simple ideas into marketable digital commodities. Nowhere does this myth run deeper than in California: William Hewlett and David Packard’s Palo Alto backyard shack is listed on the US National Register of Historic Places as “the birthplace of Silicon Valley,” while the garage of Steve Jobs’ parents’ house (where he and Steve Wozniak built the first batch of Apple computers) has been recently designated as a “historical site” by the city of Los Altos. These garages have even been turned into informal museums and receive thousands of visitors a year, some even arriving with organized tour buses. For Californian historian Mario Biagioli, the garage has become an important rhetorical device in contemporary discourses, helping mythify the origins of contemporary innovation. Masculine innovation in particular, since the garage is a strictly male space. Bezos himself started Amazon in a garage, albeit not in California—or so Amazon’s origin myth goes: in 1994 he left his lucrative but dull Wall Street hedge fund job and wrote a business plan while driving cross-country from New York to Seattle, where he used his and his family’s money to start the company.
The myth of the redemption and success of the hero entrepreneur trickles down to the warehouse, insofar as Amazon presents work to its employees through the frame of emancipation. The idea of redemption through work is nothing new. On the contrary, it is a damnation common to modern society. In the early 1960s, militant sociologist Romano Alquati pointed out that the culture of mid-20th century Italian factories included the construction of a “myth” or “cult” of emancipation. In this instance, it was directed at the masses of migrant workers who, following World War II, moved from the rural south to the north of the country to find manufacturing work with the flagship companies of the Italian postwar economic boom, such as FIAT or Olivetti. Redemption from the backwardness of rural life was ensured not only by steady paychecks and the prospect of a pension at the end of the line, but also by participation in technologically advanced production processes—the assembly line of industrial capitalism. Amazon simply repeats and updates such promises. In Italy, for example, Amazon positions itself as an employee-focused company that brings stable employment back to a precarized labor market—a boon to a labor market hit by financial crises, lackluster growth, and lack of opportunities for retraining and upskilling. So Amazon continues a historical trajectory of Italian capitalism, but imports onto the local context novel characteristics borrowed from the American digital corporation model.
Indeed, digital capitalism updates industrial capitalism’s promise of economic and social emancipation with some novel elements of its own. Rather than simply swapping out the assembly line with the robot or the algorithm, the culture of digital capitalism mixes libertarian ideology with entrepreneurial elements. At the core of this myth lies a form of individualism. The combination of new information technologies with free-market dynamics enables emancipatory potential for the entrepreneur. Furthermore, digital capitalist companies state that they exist to change the world, to make people happy, to create value for everyone and not just for investors—technological optimism at its apex. After all, how could you deliver a bad outcome when your first principle is don’t be evil, as Google’s old slogan famously put it.
Amazon extends this old myth to all its workers. Indeed, in corporate documents, the company goes so far as to state that everyone is an “owner” at Amazon. While this is quite literal in the case of engineers and executives who receive shares of the company, it can only be understood at the level of mythology for warehouse workers. A figurative or spiritual commitment to the company’s destiny. Managerial techniques used in the warehouse contribute to building this myth, as associates are asked to have fun at work and help Amazon make history, as one of its corporate slogans goes. The myth brings with it the idea that there is no alternative to digital capitalism. Only co-option, or failure for those who can’t keep up or won’t adapt or submit.
Myths are not just old stories or false beliefs. They are ideas that help us make sense of the world. The myth of digital capitalism itself is not simply fictitious, but instead has very concrete effects. For Big Tech corporations, this myth projects a positive contribution to the world, helping to attract workers and investment, and boost corporate value on financial markets. But it has other concrete effects as well. In different areas of the world, and in different communities, the myth of redemption stemming from participation in high-tech production has impacted economies and cultures. Feminist media studies scholar Lisa Nakamura recounted how, in the 1970s, electronics manufacturers operating on Navajo land in New Mexico justified the employment of Indigenous women. Labor in microchip production was presented as empowering for the crafty and docile Navajo women—assumptions derived from racist stereotyping. Italy is completely different from the Navajo Nation, and yet the idea that an imported version of American digital capitalism can be a force for collective modernization and individual emancipation is alive and well there too. Belief in this myth is evidenced in many different and even contrasting ways. Some bring resources, like the $1.5 billion state-owned venture capital fund launched in 2020 by the Italian government to support start-up companies in the hope they will foster economic growth. Others sell resources off, like when mayors of small towns with high unemployment compete to attract the next Amazon FC, offering the company both farmland newly opened up for development and a local workforce ready to staff the warehouse. Over the years, the mayors of Castel San Giovanni have described the presence of MXP5 as a force of “development” and a source of “pride” for the town. This is not unique to Italy. American mayors are routinely quoted praising the arrival of a new Amazon facility as a “wonderful” or “monumental” thing for their town.
Amazon’s corporate slogans also hedge up its myth. Central is the valorization of disruption—the idea of a hero entrepreneur defeating the gods of the past. Some of the slogans (the so-called Leadership Principles) are repeated time and again and painted everywhere in the warehouse. While Aboutamazon.com, the company’s corporate website, describes them as “more than inspirational wall hangings,” that is exactly what they sound like. Customer obsession is perhaps the most famous one, a slogan that captures the strategic goal of focusing on customers’ needs: the rest (profits, power) will follow. It also signals that workers are by design an afterthought. Other slogans are even more predictable, like Leaders are right a lot or Think big. Amazon’s myth trickles down to fulfillment centers like MXP5 in many ways. Amazon routinely conducts marketing operations aimed at finding new workers, not new customers. Billboards sporting smiling warehouse workers, recruitment events, and glowing articles commissioned by staffing agencies in the local newspaper are common sights in Piacenza, as in the areas surrounding other FCs. Social media multiplies the message. Amazon encourages employees to join its army of “ambassadors”—workers who plaster social media with positive stories about their job or videos in which they happily dance inside the warehouse. Like the FC’s walls, all these practices are soaked with the Leadership Principles: at a recruitment event near Toronto, slogans, such as Fulfilling the customer promise, were projected as part of a slideshow filled with smiling arrow logos, accompanying a presentation of more mundane details like job descriptions or benefits. “Every Amazonian who wants to be a leader,” we were told, should focus on “customer obsession” and “never settle,” and let’s not forget that Amazonians “are right a lot.” The event wrapped up with free pizza.
The stress and uncertainty surrounding the COVID pandemic, along with misinformation about the life-saving vaccines developed in response have broken many a weak mind over the past two years, leading people to try everything from injecting themselves with bleach and inhaling nebulized hydrogen peroxide, to slugging down horse dewormer in misguided attempts to outwit modern medicine. Surprise, none of it actually works. What's worse is that this sort of behavior is nothing new. Quack homeopathic remedies have existed for centuries — curing the bubonic plague through blood letting, self-flagellation, or sitting in hot sewers to drive off the fever, for example — and supported by little more than anecdotal evidence.
In their latest book, Patient Zero: A Curious History of the World's Worst Diseases, Dr. Lydia Kang and Nate Pedersen delve into the fascinating histories of some of humanity's deadliest diseases and the society-preserving works of the scientists who the developed cures, vaccines and treatments to counter them. In the excerpt below, we take a look at the deployment of antibiotics and antitoxins in the fight against diphtheria, anthrax, and other deadly diseases.
Aside from putting barriers between us and plagues, the next primary approach to defeating them was to attack them directly, thanks to breakthroughs in science that created and discovered antibiotics and antitoxins. Some of these medicines aren’t simply employed against microorganisms like bacteria, but act as antifungals, antivirals, and antiparasitics as well. Today, there are more than a hundred types of medicines in this group. The World Health Organization (WHO) maintains a list of medicines deemed essential for a country’s healthcare system to best care for its citizenry, and a large chunk of those essential meds battle infectious diseases.
Some might assume that penicillin was the first definitive weapon discovered in our fight against pathogens, but there were several that preceded it and broke significant ground when they were discovered.
The Prussian-born Emil von Behring was a doctor and an assistant to the famed Robert Koch at the Institute for Hygiene in Berlin. In 1888, he developed a way to treat those suffering from diphtheria and tetanus. Not a disease familiar to many these days, diphtheria is prevented by a vaccine that is usually coupled with your routine tetanus shot. In the 1800s, diphtheria was a terrible killer that inflamed a victim’s heart, inflicted paralysis, and caused a suffocating membrane to cover the throat. In Spain, the disease was so rampant in 1613 it was nicknamed El Año de los Garrotillos, or “The Year of Strangulations.”
Much of the disease caused by diphtheria is driven by the toxin created by Corynebacterium diphtheriae. Von Behring infected rats, rabbits, and guinea pigs with weakened (attenuated) forms of it, then gathered their serum—the liquid fraction of their blood, minus the red and white blood cells. That light, honey-colored liquid, which contained antibodies to the diphtheria toxin, was then injected into another set of animals that were sickened with fully virulent diphtheria bacteria.
The newly infected animals given the serum didn’t die because they gained a passive form of protection against the toxin with the donated serum. In 1891, a child’s life was saved using this new method for the first time. The serum was produced in large quantities using animals like sheep and horses. At a time when 50,000 children died annually from diphtheria, it was a miraculous treatment.
Tetanus serum was created soon after, becoming a workable treatment by 1915. Today, antitoxins are used to treat botulism, diphtheria, and anthrax. The same principles of antitoxin treatment are utilized for antivenom therapy to remedy poisonous animal bites, including those from black widow spiders, scorpions, box jellyfish, and cobras. A treatment called passive antibody therapy, in which the serum of patients recovered from an infection is given to other sick patients (also called convalescent plasma therapy), may have been helpful during the COVID-19 pandemic, though data is still forthcoming. Antibodies against infections can not only treat diseases like toxic shock syndrome, but prevent infections during exposures, such as those for hepatitis A and B and botulism. But the antibodies themselves have been employed to treat more than just bites, stings, and infections. Intravenous immunoglobulins from pooled donors treat a variety of disorders, such as ITP (immune thrombocytopenia) and severe immune deficiency diseases.
Another antibody therapy—monoclonal antibodies—has been a game-changer in treatments over the last decade or so, the first one approved by the FDA in 1986. These specially designed antibodies are used to treat several types of cancers (melanoma, breast, and stomach, among many others) and autoimmune diseases (including Crohn’s disease, rheumatoid arthritis, and psoriasis). The antibodies themselves are Y-shaped proteins that bind to a specific protein. In doing so, they can elicit a whole range of effects: switching on or off immune system cascades, destroying cells, blocking or engaging cell activities. The antibodies only bind to a single antigen, hence “mono,” and are produced by clones of cells that churn out the antibodies in large amounts. Sometimes they can also be bound to radioactive particles, delivering radioactivity directly to a cancer cell. Others can be bound to a chemotherapy agent. Often, they work alone.
In the realm of cancer therapy, most of us have some understanding of chemotherapy. But the origin of the term chemotherapy itself actually came from the fight to treat infections, not cancer. At the turn of the twentieth century, antibiotics had yet to establish themselves as a cure for infections. That changed with a physician and scientist named Paul Ehrlich. He was born in 1854 in East Prussia (now Poland) where his father ran a lottery office. During his career, he took advantage of the burgeoning German dye industry to experiment on how cells looked stained with different chemicals. His love of color led to some notable idiosyncrasies, like carrying colored pencil stubs in his pockets. But Ehrlich’s work led to what would become the famous Ziehl-Neelsen acid-fast stain for tuberculosis. (Unfortunately, he also stained his very own TB bacteria from his sputum, though luckily survived the illness.) Later he collaborated with the aforementioned Emil von Behring, a Nobel Prize–winning physiologist, on serum therapy for tetanus and diphtheria.
But perhaps Ehrlich’s most notable discovery happened by accident as he sought a chemical cure to treat a specific disease—a “chemotherapy.” Specifically, he hoped to cure sleeping sickness, a disease caused by a microscopic parasite called Trypanosoma brucei. He had been working with a chemical called atoxyl (meaning “nontoxic”), ironically an arsenic compound. Ehrlich coined the term “magic bullet” related to his hope of finding that perfect chemical that would hopefully kill a very specific pathogen, the Trypanosoma parasite, and not the patient. He ended up testing nine hundred variations of the arsenic compounds on mice. None were particularly effective, but he revisited #606 because it seemed to have an effect on a newly discovered bacterium believed to cause syphilis. In 1910, the medicine called Salvarsan (sometimes simply called “606”) was proven to be effective—it killed the syphilis spirochete and left the guinea pigs, rabbits, and mice alive.
In the next few decades, new research would be applied to battle not just the pandemics of old, but daily infections that could upend people’s lives. A scratch or bite could kill if those Staphylococcus or Streptococcus infections spiraled out of control. A German scientist named Gerhard Domagk began working with a group of chemicals called azo dyes that had a characteristic double nitrogen bond. Azo dyes can color textiles, leather, and foods various shades of brilliant orange, red, and yellow. When an azo compound had a sulfonamide group attached (a nitrogen and sulfur link with two oxygen atoms double-bonded to the sulfur, should you need to impress friends at a party), they knew they’d found something special. The sulfonamide group inhibits a bacteria’s ability to make folate, a necessary B vitamin. Humans, on the other hand, can obtain folate through their diet. And so another magic bullet was born. The new compound seemed to work in mice infected with Streptococcus, otherwise known as strep.
Domagk used the new medicine, called KL 730 and later patented as Prontosil, on his own daughter Hildegard. Suffering from a severe strep infection, she received a shot of Prontosil and recovered, though the drug left a telltale dyed, reddish discoloration at the injection site.
“Sulfa” drugs would go on to be used in a variety of medicines, including antibiotics (trimethoprim and sulfamethoxazole, aka Bactrim), diabetes medicines (glyburide, a sulfonylurea), diuretics (furosemide, or Lasix), pain meds (celecoxib, or Celebrex), and are also used today to treat pneumonia, skin and soft tissue infections, and urinary tract infections, among others.
Domagk’s work won him the Nobel Prize in 1935. However, the Nazis, who disapproved of how the Nobel committee tried to help German pacifist Carl von Ossietzky, had their Gestapo arrest Domagk for accepting the prize and forced him to give it back. He was able to receive it later in 1947.
In late October, FCC chairwoman Jessica Rosenworcel proposed expanding the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline (1-800-273-8255) to accept text messages via the 988 three-digit dialing code — akin to 911 — to "better support at-risk communities in crisis, including youth and individuals with disabilities." On Thursday, the full four-member board voted in favor of enacting the proposal which will take effect by July 16, 2022.
Suicide was the second leading cause of death in the United States for ages 10 - 35 in 2019 (10th overall), per the NIMH. Nearly 45,000 people died by suicide in 2020, disproportionately impacting young people, black people, LGBTQ+ people, Veterans peoples, and disabled people.
"Today’s action requires covered text providers to support text messaging to 988 by routing text messages sent to 988 to the Lifeline’s 10-digit number, 1-800-273-8255 (TALK)," Thursday's announcement stated. "The rules establish a process that will require covered text providers to support transmitting messages to 988 in additional text messaging formats that the Lifeline is capable of receiving."
Until next July rolls around, if you're struggling and need someone to listen, please, call 1-800-273-8255 (TALK) or webchat the Lifeline.
Gene Roddenberry was a man ahead of his time, accurately predicting the development of fantastical gadgets like flip phones, tablet computers, Bluetooth and bionic eyes — even tractor beams. But one technology Roddenberry called for in the 1960s has yet to make it off the screen: teleportation. It's not only that "we just don't have enough power," as Scotty would say, we also lack the fundamental knowledge base to make it a reality. For now, at least. In their latest book, Frequently Asked Questions about the Universe, Jorge Cham and Daniel Whiteson delve into this and a host of other quandaries facing humanity — from whether there's an afterlife, why aliens haven't made contact with us yet, or if our observable existence is actually a computer simulation.
If your dream of teleportation is to be here in one moment, and then be in a totally different place the next moment, then we are sad to tell you right off the bat that this is impossible. Unfortunately, physics has some pretty hard rules about anything happening instantaneously. Anything that happens (an effect) has to have a cause, which in turn requires the transmission of information. Think about it: in order for two things to be causally related to each other (like you disappearing here and you appearing somewhere else), they have to somehow talk to each other. And in this universe, everything, including information, has a speed limit.
Information has to travel through space just like everything else, and the fastest anything can travel in this universe is the speed of light. Really, the speed of light should have been called the “speed of information” or “the universe’s speed limit.” It’s baked into relativity and the very idea of cause and effect, which are at the heart of physics.
Even gravity can’t move faster than light. The Earth doesn’t feel gravity from where the Sun is right now; it feels gravity from where the Sun was eight minutes ago. That’s how long it takes information to travel the ninety-three million miles between here and there. If the Sun disappeared (teleporting off for its own vacation), the Earth would continue in its normal orbit for eight minutes before realizing that the Sun was gone.
So the idea that you can disappear in one place and reappear in another place instantly is pretty much out of the question. Something has to happen in between, and that something can’t move faster than light.
Fortunately, most of us aren’t such sticklers when it comes to the definition of “teleportation.” Most of us will take “almost instantly” or “in the blink of an eye” or even “as fast as the laws of physics will allow” for our teleportation needs. If that’s the case, then there are two options for making a teleportation machine work:
1. Your teleportation machine could transmit you to your destination at the speed of light.
2. Your teleportation machine could somehow shorten the distance between where you are and where you want to go.
Option #2 is what you might call the “portal” type of teleportation. In movies, it would be the kind of teleportation that opens up a doorway, usually through a wormhole or some kind of extradimensional subspace, that you step through to find yourself somewhere else. Wormholes are theoretical tunnels that connect points in space that are far away, and physicists have definitely proposed the existence of multiple dimensions beyond the three we are familiar with.
Sadly, both of these concepts are still very much theoretical. We haven’t actually seen a wormhole, nor do we have any idea how to open one or control where it leads. And extra dimensions aren’t really something you can move into. They only represent extra ways in which your particles might be able to wiggle.
Much more interesting to talk about is Option #1, which, as it turns out, might actually be something we can do in the near future.
Getting There at Light Speed
If we can’t appear in other places instantly, or take shortcuts through space, can we at least get there as fast as possible? The top speed of the universe, three hundred million meters per second, is plenty fast to cut your commute down to a fraction of a second and make trips to the stars take years instead of decades or millennia. Speed-of-light teleportation would still be awesome.
To do that, you might imagine a machine that somehow takes your body and then pushes it at the speed of light to your destination. Unfortunately, there’s a big problem with this idea, and it’s that you’re too heavy. The truth is that you’re too massive to ever travel at the speed of light. First, it would take an enormous amount of time and energy just to accelerate all the particles in your body (whether assembled or broken up somehow) to speeds that are close to the speed of light. And second, you would never get to the speed of light. It doesn’t matter how much you’ve been dieting or working on your CrossFit; nothing that has any mass can ever travel at the speed of light.
Particles like electrons and quarks, the building blocks of your atoms, have mass. That means that it takes energy to get them moving, a lot of energy to get them moving fast, and infinite energy to reach the speed of light. They can travel at very high speeds, but they can never achieve light speed.
That means that you, and the molecules and particles that make up who you are right now, would never actually be able to teleport. Not instantaneously, and not at the speed of light. Transporting your body somewhere that quickly is never going to happen. It’s just not possible to move all the particles in your body fast enough.
But does that mean teleportation is impossible? Not quite!
There is one way it can still happen, and that’s if we relax what “you” means. What if we didn’t transport you, your molecules or your particles? What if we just transmitted the idea of you?
You Are Information
One possible way to achieve speed-of-light teleportation is to scan you and send you as a beam of photons. Photons don’t have any mass, which means they can go as fast as the universe will allow. In fact, photons can only travel at the speed of light (there’s no such thing as a slow-moving photon).*
Here’s a basic recipe for speed-of-light teleportation:
Step #1: Scan your body and record where all your molecules and particles are.
Step #2: Transmit this information to your destination via a beam of photons.
Step #3: Receive this information and rebuild your body using new particles.
Is this possible? Humans have made incredible progress in both scanning and 3D printing technologies. These days, magnetic resonance imaging (MRI) can scan your body down to a resolution of 0.1 millimeters, which is about the size of a brain cell. And scientists have used 3D printers to print increasingly more complicated clusters of living cells (known as “organoids”) for testing cancer drugs. We’ve even made machines (using scanning tunneling microscopes) that can grab and move individual atoms. So it’s not hard to imagine that one day we might be able to scan and then print whole bodies.
The real limitation, though, might not be technological but philosophical. After all, if someone made a copy of you, would it actually be you?
Remember, there’s nothing particularly special about the particles that make up your body right now. All particles of a given type are the same. Every electron is perfectly identical to every other electron, and the same is true for quarks. Particles don’t come out of the universe factory with personalities or any sort of distinguishing features. The only difference between any two electrons or any two quarks is where each of them is and what other particles they’re hanging out with.*
But how much would a copy of you still be you? Well, it depends on two things. The first is the resolution of the technology that scans and prints you. Can it read and print your cells? Your molecules? Your atoms, or even your individual particles?
The even bigger question is how much your “you-ness” depends on the tiny details. What level of detail does it take for the copy to still be considered you? It turns out that this is an open question, and the answer might depend on how quantum your sense of self is.
Having somehow made it through a second year of global pandemic and political unrest, give the loved ones on your holiday shopping list the greatest gift of all: an alternative to doom-scrolling. In Engadget’s 2021 Media Gift Guide you’ll find a diverse selection of books — fiction and nonfiction alike — as well a host of streaming content suggestions that will keep their recipients entertained through the holidays and beyond. If you’ve got a book, show or movie that you think would make the perfect present, tell us all about it in the comments below!
Fiction
Black Sun by Rebecca Roanhorse
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NYT bestselling author, Rebecca Roanhorse — the literary force behind Star Wars: Resistance Reborn — has done it again. Her latest fantasy series, Between Earth and Sky, takes readers on an epic journey of trauma, healing, vengeance, and eventual redemption. The first book in the series, 2020’s Black Sun, weaves a masterfully engrossing — and markedly inclusive — tale that eschews the common Arthurian Legend retellings in favor of a unique fantasy world inspired by pre-Columbian America cultures. If you’ve got a fan of fantasy on your holiday shopping list, pick up Black Sun for them before the sequel, Fevered Star, drops next April.
The ending of Game of Thrones was nothing short of a slap in the face to fans. I mean, really, all that and Bran wins? GTFOH. If you’ve got a fan of George “Double R” Martin on your holiday shopping list, do them a favor and turn them on to Joe Abercrombie’s Age of Madness trilogy. Set in a world in which the seeds of industrialization have just taken hold even as the age magic and mysticism stubbornly refuses to be uprooted, AoM tells a tale of mighty nations at war while the powerful elites who rule them vie for control over both their countries’ external fates and their courts’ internal politics. Packed with captivating characters, political intrigue, incredible reversals of fortune and stunning betrayals, Age of Madness is a grimdark masterpiece where everybody, for once, gets exactly what they deserve.
Whether we like it or not, this is Jeff Bezos’ world and the rest of us just live in it. Our current slate of 21st century techno-robber barons have achieved unfathomable wealth and unassailable power; but as Paul Bradley Carr’s latest novel, 1414º, illustrates, you can’t spend that money or wield that influence when you’re dead. If you’ve got a fan of high-tension whodunnits and techno-thrillers on your holiday shopping list, 1414º will be a surefire hit.
Fugitive Telemetry (The Murderbot Diaries) by Martha Wells
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Martha Wells can’t stop, won’t stop, dropping Murderbot hits. The reigning queen of hard sci-fi releasedFugitive Telemetry— the sixth book in her Hugo, Nebula, Locus and Alex Award winning series — earlier this year and let me tell you from experience, it is a banger. Our self-aware SecUnit anti-hero is back in another standalone adventure, this time on the trail of a vicious murderer aboard Preservation (space) Station. If the sci-finatic on your holiday shopping lists enjoys space intrigue and robotic mysteries, you can’t go wrong with Fugitive Telemetry.
The year is 2052 and Earth finds itself unwillingly annexed into a galactic empire it didn’t even know existed and is presented with a simple choice: provide our new alien overlords with a viable commercial product or face extermination. Thus, Earth’s mercenary legions are born. Armed with alien-made weaponry and a mysterious technology that allows soldiers to be reconstructed after being killed in battle — like reloading from a previous save point but far more gooey — Earth’s legions set out across the stars to fight the wars that the galaxy’s elder races are too self-important to fight themselves. Already 16 books deep, author B.V. Larson continues to lead the genre of military sci-fi from the front, so if you’ve got a fan of Starship Troopers, Aliens-style space marines, or Tom Cruise’s Edge of Tomorrow on your holiday shopping list, congrats! You can cross them off now.
Bright Galaxies, Dark Matter, and Beyond by Ashley Jean Yeager
Far from a household name, astronomer Vera Rubin’s pioneering research helped convince the scientific community of the possibility that dark matter — the mysterious materials that make up a vast majority of the universe but cannot be observed — actually exists. In Bright Galaxies, Dark Matter, and Beyond (not to be confused with Bright Galaxies, Dark Matter, a collection of Rubin’s own essays), author Ashley Jean Yeager takes readers on an inspiring biographical journey through the astronomer’s early year before examining the challenges she faced working in an often hostile, male-dominated field, and her eventual vindication and professional triumphs — looking at you Vera C. Rubin Observatory. If you’ve got a younger someone on your holiday shopping list who’s interested in pursuing STEM, this could well be the book that puts them on a path towards scientific greatness.
During the Zeppelin’s heyday, airships weren't just a means of the well-to-do to slowly get to distant destinations in comfort and luxury, they also offered a new means of (albeit pokey) exploration. N-4 Down by Mark Piesing takes readers on a thrilling, nail-biting adventure of the largest arctic rescue operation in history as famed Norwegian explorer, Roald Amundsen, rushed to save the surviving crew of the airship Italia, which crashed during its attempt to land men at the North Pole in 1928. The history and aeronautical buffs on your holiday shopping list are going to absolutely love it.
For the last 10,000 years, humanity has had an unprecedented and largely destructive impact on the environment around us. But as climate change increasingly wreaks its own havoc on us in return, humanity must now work to reverse or at least mitigate the harm that we have caused. In Under a White Sky: The Nature of the Future, Pulitzer Prize-winning author Elizabeth Kolbert examines just what we can do to make things right with Mother Earth and avoid a catastrophic climate crisis.
Green Bank, West Virginia is, technologically speaking, stuck in the 1950s. And for good reason! This bucolic Appalachian town is home to the ultra-sensitive radio telescope at the Green Bank observatory, which necessitates that basically every device that can emit a radio signal — everything from iPads to microwaves — be heavily restricted. In The Quiet Zone, journalist and author Stephen Kurczy, embeds himself in Green Bank to give readers a firsthand look at what life could be like without our precious digital tech. The Quiet Zone is the perfect gift for the aspiring luddite on your holiday shopping list.
Given the myriad COVID-induced supply chain challenges that retailers are girding for this upcoming holiday season, finding physical copies of these titles could prove to be a bit of a challenge. So, perhaps consider gifting the book worms on your holiday shopping list the Kindle Paperwhite and a subscription to Amazon Kindle Unlimited? Virtually every one of the books listed above are available on the digital service along with millions of others as well as magazines and periodicals.
But there’s only so much one can read during those long winter nights so why not curl up on the couch with a nice cup of hot cocoa and watch some sterling examples of our new Golden Age of Television? If you’ve got a Trekkie on your holiday shopping list, you really can’t go wrong with a subscription to Paramount+. The $5 - $10 a month service unlocks a plethora of Star Trek shows including the Emmy award-winning Picard and the hilarious Lower Decks.
Got someone with small children on your gift list? Throw them a bone with a Disney+ subscription. The service hosts nearly the entirety of Disney’s massive, decades-deep archives along with new family-friendly series and episodes arriving daily.
