Philip Ball writes:

In 2000, Bill Joy, the co-founder and chief scientist of the computer company Sun Microsystems, sounded an alarm about technology. In an article in Wired titled ‘Why the Future Doesn’t Need Us’, Joy wrote that we should ‘limit development of the technologies that are too dangerous, by limiting our pursuit of certain kinds of knowledge.’ He feared a future in which our inventions casually wipe us from the face of the planet.

The concerns expressed in Joy’s article, which prompted accusations of Luddism from tech advocates, sound remarkably similar to those now being voiced by some leaders in Silicon Valley that artificial intelligence might soon surpass us in intelligence and decide we humans are expendable. However, while ‘sentient robots’ were a part of what had spooked Joy, his main worry was about another technology that he figured might make that prospect imminently possible. He was troubled by nanotechnology: the engineering of matter at the scale of nanometres, comparable to the size of molecules.

In fact, it would be more accurate to say Joy was troubled by the version of nanotechnology that he had read about in the book Engines of Creation (1986) by the engineer K Eric Drexler, a graduate of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. At the close of the 20th century, it was nanotechnology, not AI (which didn’t seem to be getting very far), that loomed large as the enabler of utopias and dystopias. Drexler’s book described a vision of nanotech that could work wonders, promising, in Joy’s words, ‘incredibly low-cost solar power, cures for cancer and the common cold’ as well as ‘[low-cost] spaceflight … and restoration of extinct species.’

But Joy had learnt from the inventor Ray Kurzweil (now a scientific adviser to Google) that Drexler’s nanotech promised something yet more remarkable: the singularity, a point at which our accelerating technological prowess reaches escape velocity and literal marvels become possible – in particular, immortality through the merging of human and machine, so that we could upload our minds to computers and live forever in a digital nirvana.

‘[N]anotechnology-based manufacturing devices in the 2020s will be capable of creating almost any physical product from inexpensive raw materials and information,’ Kurzweil wrote in his book The Singularity Is Near (2005). The technology ‘will provide tools to effectively combat poverty, clean up our environment, overcome disease, extend human longevity, and many other worthwhile pursuits.’

But, Joy learned, there was a downside to all this. Drexler’s nanotechnology could get out of hand, unleashing swarms of invisibly tiny nano-robots that blindly start pulling everything apart, atom by atom, until they have reduced the world to what Drexler called ‘grey goo’. In the late 1990s, the grey-goo problem was the golem that, like ‘superintelligent AI’ today, might bring about our hubristic downfall.

You might have noticed that none of this has happened. No cures for cancer, no mind-uploading immortality, but no grey goo either. This is because Drexler’s vision of nanotechnology was a chimera. It was like the philosophers’ stone of the alchemists: magic dressed in the science of its time, by means of which almost anything becomes possible. I call these oneiric technologies: they do not and quite probably cannot exist, but they fulfil a deep-rooted dream, or a nightmare, or both.

These are not simply technologies of the future that we don’t yet have the means to realise, like the super-advanced technologies that Arthur C Clarke said we would be unable to distinguish from magic. Rather, oneiric technology takes a wish (or a terror) and clothes it in what looks like scientific raiment so that the uninitiated onlooker, and perhaps the dreamer, can no longer tell it apart from what is genuinely on the verge of the possible. Perpetual motion is one of the oldest oneiric technologies, although only since the 19th century have we known why it won’t work (this knowledge doesn’t discourage modern attempts, for example by allegedly exploiting the ‘quantum vacuum’); anti-gravity shielding is probably another.

The oneiric technologies currently in vogue in Silicon Valley include the notion of terraforming other planets, transforming their geosphere and atmosphere to render them inhabitable; cryonic freezing of your head after death so that your consciousness can one day be rebooted; and the related idea of mind-uploading to computer circuits. These techno-fantasies are central to the utopias regularly forecast by tech billionaires. They interconnect in a nexus to which Drexlerian nanotechnology is central. [Continue reading…]