By Dan Hazen / Herald Forum
Aging rockers like me will remember the break-out Metallica hit from 1989 titled “One.”
The music video solidified the horror-story narrative of a soldier who lost legs, arms and all his senses, but was kept alive; in pain and unable to communicate. The lyrics include the words, “Hold my breath as I wish for death. Oh please, God, wake me.” Dark stuff. Makes for quality head banging, dark entertainment, and is also completely implausible. Right?
I hadn’t thought about the song for decades until I read an article in the Aug. 14 edition of MIT News which detailed the development of an implantable anti-opioid overdose device: the “iSOS Robotic First Responder” which is, according to the article, “about the size of a stick of gum, can be implanted under the skin, where it monitors heart rate, breathing rate, and other vital signs. When it determines that an overdose has occurred, it rapidly pumps out a dose of naloxone.” It’s also refillable and rechargeable so it will be ready for your next overdose.
In addition, I came upon news declaring that the new class of drug called semaglutides, developed to control the blood sugar levels of those with Type 2 diabetes but increasing used by nondiabetics for weight loss, ultimately allowing for a future in which we can eat however we want, if we have access to the right pill or shot.
Both technologies reveal what I’m afraid is a growing gulf between our collective definition of life and what life actually is. Privileged university students endure fines and jail to protest for the lives of Palestinians. Millions of evangelicals give hundreds of millions of dollars to protect the lives of the unborn. But neither group repents, nor even laments any complicity in the systems that continue killing those they seek to protect.
Yes, I’m describing what’s been termed “virtue signaling,” but it runs much deeper than that.
We have sub-contracted, commodified, branded and severed compassion from self. We have lost the lived experience of compassion; literally, “to suffer with.” We’ve isolated it, sanitized it, gamified it and turned it into fashion statements and science experiments. Thus, we are losing its essence. We’ve stopped asking what life is for, and we merely seek to maintain it for vague, un-examined motives that have to do with how we feel about ourselves, even if it means protracted suffering for those we “save.” (See the increased number of miserable, unnaturally old pets dragged about in strollers and gruesomely displayed on social media). Our hollowed-out compassion is on the cusp of becoming cruelty.
I spent those “Metallica” years in active addiction, but I never overdosed, so I can’t personally speak to that experience. Yet, I can tell you that I counted life as cheap. There was more than one occasion when, as my consciousness faded, I would have been content if it never returned. Today, I find myself wondering what my response would have been if I had been automatically jolted back to life by a machine, rather than what did happen: I encountered a reason to live, not just the means to stay alive. I guess I’m asking: Why does life matter to you?
As long as there is breath, there is hope, so this is by no means a call to do away with things like iSOS, semaglutides, charitable giving or protests for justice. This is just a reminder that all of these things simply point us toward possibilities.
Dan Hazen lives in Marysville.
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