X-Message-Number: 10561 Date: Sun, 11 Oct 1998 00:23:18 -0700 From: Jeff Davis <> Subject: Promises, promises; and other stories With some regularity, cryonet posters, presumably proponents, will write, "There is no guarantee that cryonics will work...", or "We can't promise resuscitation." To which I say, "Why not?" If, having some notion of the scope of modern science, and having studied cryonics, I come to the conclusion that success is a near certainty, and on that basis I promise/guarantee resuscitation, I am not lying, I am not being dishonest, I am not defrauding, I am making a good faith committment. At worst I am engaging in an act of--to use one of Ed Regis's favorite words--hubris. A promise or guarantee, by its very nature, looks to the future, and the future is, by its nature, indeterminate. If promises and guarantees required absolute godlike certitude, none but gods could make them. But people make them all the time, despite the inherent uncertainty of life. The crucial point is _good faith_. If someone else's analysis of cryonics leads them to a pessimistic conclusion, they would be unable to make a promise in good faith. And if they were unable to conceive of any other conclusion being reached, then it would logically follow for them that any promises/guarantees others might make, could only have been made in bad faith. Good logic, bad premise. It is one thing to promise, when you know you won't, or believe you can't, carry it off. It's an entirely different matter when you commit in good faith and believe in good faith that you CAN carry it off. So much for the intellectual honesty aspect of the ethics of making promises. Now let's take a shot at reality IN ACTION; that is, making a promise, and then maybe fulfilling that promise or maybe not. If you're trying to promote cryonics, trying to get acceptance, broad support, sign-ups, and research money; and you make promises in good faith, you have these two possible outcomes, you pull it off or you don't. If you succeed, and cryonics "works", you've fulfilled your promise, and in so doing replaced fear with hope, accelerated the development of suspension technology, and saved more lives. You're alive, you're young, you're dancing, and your promise is fulfilled. No ethical breach: case closed. The complainers--I suspect there will always be some of them--will just have to cry in their beer. In any event they'll be alive, and they'll have their beer, but, you know, there's just no pleasing SOME people. If, on the other hand, you fail, in say, a coupla hundred years down the line--that is the way it works, isn't it?--you've wasted some other people's money (though the knowledge gained in the effort will likely have had some value), replaced fear with hope (false hope, to be sure, but it seemed real at the time), become a confirmed hopeless cryonaut and maker of unfulfilled promises (oh woe is me, I'm soooo embarrassed!) head down in your own dewar somewhere, and killed or injured no one. To be absolutely precise, all the principals to the potential dispute in the matter of the unfulfilled promises--the transgressing promisor and the injured promisees--are all in a state of, by definition, permanent frozen indifference, so where's the harm? And, if there is none, then--as the old saying goes: No harm, no foul. So I say promise them everything: Life, health, youth, beauty, sex, happiness, wealth, wings, gills,... whatever. Promise them the moon, or at least a time share lunar condo. Because, if you're right, they'll get more than they ever dreamed of, and if you're wrong no one will ever know,... or care. But Science, oh, exalted Science, makes no promises uncertified by confirmed repeatability. Yet, the sun WILL come up tomorrow, I promise. Science has become the new religion, complete with hierarchy, councils of the elect, priestly raiment, documents of investiture, prestige, vanity, and corruption. This dictum of "No Promises" has all the earmarks of an article of faith, of canon law which, once revealed, is thenceforth never to be looked at too closely, never to be questioned. But as Martin Luther once said, as he tacked his heretical scribblings to the church door, "I don't think so, Tim!" Let's take that forbidden closer look. The alternative is a kind of ethical purity that hobbles cryonics, and is, in fact, little more than vanity. ------------------------------------------------------ I want to welcome Thomas Nord to the fray. Vis a vis selling cryonics, might I recommend Saul Kent's essay of April 28th entitled The Failure of the Cryonics Movement (I don't remember the Cryonet posting number), and then (if not so humbly) my post #10435. How long must we wait for the Gordian Knot to lie shattered in the dust? Not long, I suspect. Welcome back, Dr. Ettinger. All speed to a full recovery. I can't help thinking that, when the time comes, the cryonaut's sleep will pass in the blink of an eye, while those that joyfully (or not) persevere in the quest, must do so without (at least temporarily) the steady hand and good humor of our comrades in the cooler. How rarely it seems, we speak of the fellowship we share in this adventure. For that too, I thank you, Dr. Ettinger. -------------------------------------------------------- I've given some thought to the responses to my post about selling cryonics. Here's what I've come up with. It seems there is a conservative streak among some cryonicists, particularly those in positions of responsibility in the established organizations. No mystery where that comes from. In it for the long haul, the VERY long haul, dedicated to stability, responsible for patient care, for people they in all liklihood feel very close to, in a world full of risks, potential adversaries, and very real predators, how could it be otherwise than that they should become the ultimate survivalists? Taken to its logical extreme, they could be expected to vigorously oppose any speech or action which might pose a threat, no matter how remote. How deliciously ironic that those at the heart of a movement of such radical vision should find themselves so hemmed in by earthbound responsibility. (Please do not misconstrue this as criticism. Their conservatism is wholly consistent with, and precisely appropriate to the performance of their professional and ethical duty.) Clearly, what is needed is an independent entity, one separate and distinct from the established organizations, which can pursue more controversial strategies of cryonics promotion. Such as making promises. ------------------------------------------------------ Enough of this. I've been working on a few tv promo spots for cryonics. Here are two of them for your viewing pleasure. The Game of Life. The scene: Wide shot, center court, an empty basketball arena. We hear the sound of a basketball bouncing on the wood floor echoing through the large empty space. The sound comes into the frame from the right, brought by a shrunken old man, bouncing the ball. He is wearing a basketball uniform which is many sizes too large, hanging down and about him all comically. Slightly to the left of center in the frame and the court, he dribbles the ball around, with his knarled hands and gaunt arms. It's almost funny, almost poignant, not the least of which because he is stern and serious: a COMPETITOR. He is joined gradually by nine others, ancient and similarly dressed, and all serious, and finally, one more in an oversize referee's uniform and whistle. They gather at center court for the tip off. The camera zooms in. The camera follows the ball as it is tossed. The two old men leap with the toss. The arena lights drop down through the top of the frame, a bright, broken line--two, three, or four clusters--in the background, which washes out the darker details of the empty arena. The foreground is brightly lit. As the men leap, time slows, so that at the moment each of their hands contact the ball, time has almost stopped. (This allows the moment to have a much longer duration.) As the men leap, they and the ref, "morph" and "swell" into young, strong atheletes (who fill their uniforms). When time has almost stopped--the morphing complete--at the moment when their hands touch the ball, there is a billiant flash of light (which blinds the frame in brilliant white), and sound. Instantly, as the flash fades, and the action resumes full speed, we hear the roar of the crowd, and the arena, hollow and empty moments before, is filled with the roar of life. The camera backs out of the glare of the arena lights, to the wide shot of the game, crowd, and arena, feverish with life. Then, across the screen appears the word CRYONICS, and then, below it, after a beat, appear the words, "Get back into the game". Copyright 1998 by Jeff Davis, all rights reserved. I call this one "Death and Taxes". The cryonics family (Like the Adams family) is gathered at home for a domestic scene indistinguishable in tone from what we know today. Mom, dad, their daughter, her friend, and the family dog (a large black sheepdog--I must insist, for personal reasons related to thematic continuity). All look mid-twenties to early-thirties in age. They're talking about whatever, mom is preparing some edible delights, the vid screen on the wall is showing something, the dog is hanging out near the chow activity, waiting for a snack---life at home--when on the vid screen comes a talking head behind a desk. The daughter's friend reaches for the remote, to change the channel, but the daughter says no don't do that. The friend is puzzled and asks why anyone would want to watch this boring thing which comes on the screen regularly every month or so. The daughter says it's something of a family tradition, dad likes to watch it. The friend asks why. The daughter says dad is an "old timer" who remembers when things were different, so now he never tires of seeing this "piece" on the vid (dad uses the old term: "tv"). The friend wonders--and there's some discussion about how old dad actually is, and the daughter tells us he's 232 years old. The friend is surprised, says to the daughter, "But you're only 90, same as me..." The daughter explains that dad waited till the "second time around" to have a family. All this discussion of age, of course, is to show INDIRECTLY the consequences/implications of cryonics without being heavy handed, ie., without making it the central point of the piece. Life is about life, not about cryonics. All the while the talking head is making a pitch for donations--like a pledge break on public television, but, as we watch we discover that the donations will be for the government. THE GOVERNMENT HAS TO BEG FOR ITS MONEY. The talking head is cheesy--much like the pledge break mc's on public tv--he is not professional on camera talent. And the pitch is equally cheesy, further contributing to the impression that anything government is inherently second rate. Dad meanwhile is at the dining table working on a jig-saw puzzle or little hobby project, but able to see and enjoy the vid screen at the same time. As the pitch comes to an end, he puts down his stuff and gets up from the table. The daughter says to her friend, "This is the part he likes best." On the vid screen comes a disclaimer--like the WARNING on the side of the cigarette package--that says something like: "All donations are strictly voluntary and may only be used as specified by the donor. The government has no authority to coerce payment, or punish non-payment. Any attempt to do so should be reported immediately to your local community council" (You may modify the wording of the above WARNING to suit you own tastes. But you get the idea.) As the WARNING appears on the screen dad says to his daughter, "Sweetheart, would you be so kind as to turn on the com link." She says, with an exaggerated formality, "Certainly, father." Dad turns around. Mom observes a little light go on at the top of the vid screen, and says, " We have an open channel, my captain." Whereupon he says "Please accept my donation", and moons the screen. The sound track turns to laughter by all, the word CRYONICS appears across the screen, beneath which, after a beat, appears the old saying: Nothing is certain but death (death gets crossed out as soon as it appears) and taxes (likewise gets crossed out). The scene and the old saying fade to black, leaving only CRYONICS, and rollicking laughter. Copyright 1998 by Jeff Davis, all rights reserved. Best, Jeff Davis "Everything's hard till you know how to do it." Ray Charles Rate This Message: http://www.cryonet.org/cgi-bin/rate.cgi?msg=10561