Women, reproduction, and rejuvenation

I’m not really a children person. I know some people really are into having children and think that it’s the most wonderful thing in life, but I’m just not one of them. This is perfectly fine. Whether having children is a wonderful thing or not is a matter of opinion, and it is not true or false in an absolute sense. What’s more, it’s not necessarily set in stone forever: I don’t like the idea now, but I can’t be 100% sure I never will; conversely, people who love the idea now might not like it any more in the future.

However, having children is a bit more serious than a simple matter of personal taste. A child is not a toy or a dress that you buy and just put away if it turns out you don’t like it as much as you thought you would: It’s a living human being whom was brought into the world because of someone else’s intentions and/or actions, and it’ll need love and care for quite a while. For this very reason, I think you should have children only if you’re pretty damn sure you really want to and are prepared to do all it takes to raise them. It’s not an easy job, and if it turns out you hate it, you’ll probably end up doing it wrong, messing up the child’s life and your own in the process. This is true of women and men, though women definitely picked the shortest straw. I’ll tell you why I think so in a moment.

Even if you think you are ‘pretty damn sure’ that you want children, you could still be wrong for a number of reasons that aren’t necessarily your fault. If you do decide to have children and then realise you don’t like it, you have good 18+ years ahead of you of bearing with the consequences of your wrong decision. The decision to not have children is, in a sense, safer, because it can easily be undone: Later on, you can change your mind and have children. If you already did make a child, changing your mind about it will not undo the child. However, not having children is only marginally safer, because as things stand you can postpone parenthood only so long before it becomes impossible or impractical (again, especially if you are a woman). The bottom line is that the current state of affairs imposes you a risky choice—having or not having children—that cannot easily (or at all) be undone. Whatever you choose, you might wake up one day at age 60 and wonder how different your life could have been if you only had made a different choice—a choice that is now too late to make.

As I was saying, women got the worst end of the reproduction deal. Their fertility window spans from late teenage to late 30s, with a peak in their early 20s and a drop around age 35. Pregnancy is still possible after age 35, of course, but it gets increasingly more difficult, and eventually it becomes impossible. Late pregnancies are not recommended for health reasons, and taking care of a child when you’re no longer in your prime can be quite challenging. Men too experience similar problems: Their fertility, albeit longer, is not in top shape forever; having a child as an old man becomes hard—because something else doesn’t, among other reasons.

The fear of missing the baby train can easily push you into having a child, even if you’re not sure you really want it. Social pressure is another big factor at play here—at the cost of being redundant, especially for the ladies. As a man, I can only imagine how annoying it must be to be a woman in her 30s surrounded by people wondering why she hasn’t had any children yet. What is she waiting for? Well, perhaps she just doesn’t want any, and all she’s waiting for is the moment they’ll finally stop asking her about it. Just because all of her friends had children it doesn’t mean she should too, but I understand how social pressure might make her feel ‘abnormal’ and push her to be like all the other ‘normal’ women of the same age who already have churned out a baby or two. Hordes of mothers, fathers, sisters, aunts, and grandmothers begging to have (grand-)grandchildren and/or nephews and nieces probably only make it worse.

I have no idea how many regretted pregnancies, if any, are effectively due to these factors, partly or wholly. I do know, though, that mothers who regret motherhood are a thing, to the point that a book was written about it. (Possibly not the only one.) They’re neither bad mothers, nor ‘abnormal’ women. They’re simply women who, for a reason or another, became mothers and ended up wishing they never had. There’s nothing wrong with them. Women don’t ‘have’ to like motherhood, and motherhood isn’t necessarily a ‘natural’ call for women.

Even though this lengthy introduction might make you think otherwise, this post isn’t about whether or not you should have a child, or when, or whether it is okay to regret motherhood. This post is about how rejuvenation biotechnologies can make all these issues moot.

If you’re already familiar with the concept of rejuvenation, you can safely skip to the next paragraph. If you’re not, I’ll briefly explain what we’re talking about here. Rejuvenation biotechnologies are an emerging class of drugs aimed at repairing or obviating the ‘damage’ your body inflicts to itself with time as a side-effect of its normal operations. The effect of a fully working rejuvenation platform would be that, whether you’re 50, 70, 80, or 150, your body looks, feels, and functions as though you were in your 20s; thanks to rejuvenation, your health would not decline with age. I’m not going to discuss here the details about what ageing is or how rejuvenation could be implemented; what matters is that we’re talking about existing, on-going medical research whose first clinical trials are about to begin (for example, those by Unity Biotechnologies and Ichor Therapeutics), and with some luck, it could become fully established science within few decades. If this is news to you, it probably sounds unbelievable or even scary; therefore, I ask you to set doubts aside for now, and take my word for it. I want to show you how these technologies have the potential to solve the issues I was talking about.

Whether you’ve heard about it or not, science is looking into ways to reverse menopause, or indefinitely postpone it, to allow older women to bypass biology and have a child. Recent studies suggest it might be possible to turn skin cells into egg cells, which would be a convenient way to get around the fact that women apparently run out of egg cells entirely around the time they hit menopause. Another possibility (and this is my guess), might be freezing some of your own egg cells when you’re 20 for later use. Whatever the means, the objective is to allow women to have children later than they otherwise could. According to Aubrey de Grey, the very scientist who is fostering the whole field of rejuvenation biotechs, we might soon be able to turn menopause on and off.

You probably think that a woman having a child in her 90s is a terrible idea, and under normal circumstances I would agree. But here we’re not talking about a 90-year-old woman as we would intend her today; we’re talking about a 90-year-old woman in a world where comprehensive rejuvenation therapies exist. In other words, this 90-year-old woman’s health would be the same as that of a typical 25-year-old; she would look like a 25-year-old and her body would feel to her as though she was still chronologically young. Put next to a woman who was actually in her 20s, you wouldn’t be able to tell who’s the 90-year-old.

Now, imagine what would be the advantages of combining rejuvenation therapies with the ability to reverse menopause, or even switch it on and off. I can think of a few.

  • No more rushed decisions. If there’s no expiration date on your fertility, you needn’t fear missing your chance to have a baby, and you don’t need to rush into it if you’re unsure.
  • Reduced social pressure. I’m not going to say that rejuvenation plus extended fertility would eliminate social pressure entirely. People might still (wrongly) think that there’s something wrong with a woman who hasn’t had children already by her 30s. However, I think this combo would considerably reduce social pressure: If you can have children at any point, you can give your pestering family their long-yearned-for grandkids at any point. Your parents can’t play the trump card of their impending death by old age to pressure you, because rejuvenated people don’t die of old age. They’re healthy as ever, with an indefinitely long lifespan ahead of them—which, by the way, probably means that becoming grandparents wouldn’t be their one and only goal left in life.
  • You can always start over. Say you decided to have children and ended up regretting it. Right now, once your kids are independent and you’re free to go back to your life as it was before parenthood, there generally isn’t much life left for you to go back to. Two, maybe three decades, and your health gets worse year after year. However, in a post-rejuvenation world, you’re not sick and decrepit after you children have grown up; you’re biologically young, healthy, and with no limit on how much you’ve got left to live. You can go back to your pre-parenthood life and make of it what you wish. On the other hand, if you loved having children, you can do it again. How old you are doesn’t matter. (Afraid of overpopulation? Read here.) Notice that this point applies to both men and women, for pretty much any choice they make. In a post-rejuvenation world, it’s never too late to change careers, to go back to studying, to start travelling, or to rethink your life entirely.
  • Longer life experience. As a rule of thumb, we’re much wiser in our old age, for obvious reasons. If we could have children in our 100s or later, we would have much more to give and teach to our children, and we could be much better parents. Younger generations would be able to benefit from the wisdom of older ones for much longer.
  • No unwanted or accidental pregnancies. If we really are going to be able to turn menopause on and off (which I don’t dare taking for granted), that’d pretty much be the ultimate contraceptive. For example, you could decide to keep it ‘switched on’ all the time, making any unwanted pregnancy virtually impossible, and ‘switch it off’ only when you want to have a baby. (Of course the ‘switch’ wouldn’t prevent STIs, for which old-school prevention methods would still apply.) This ability would also make the lives of victims of sexual abuse a little easier. Being raped is bad enough as it is, and I’d imagine that having to bear your rapist’s child is even worse. Having menopause ‘switched on’ would not heal the wounds or the devastating psychological effects of abuse, but it would prevent a horrible situation from becoming worse.
  • You can have the cake and eat it. Even though it is not advisable to do so, more and more women today are postponing their first pregnancy because there are other things they’d like to accomplish first. In a post-rejuvenation world, you could postpone pregnancy for as long as you like and dedicate yourself to whatever your priorities are, without making it any harder or unadvisable to bear a child.

There’s a small problem, of course: Rejuvenation isn’t here yet, and neither is the ability to switch menopause on and off. What’s worse, we’re not 100% sure that we’ll actually pull it off. As you read these lines, researchers all over the world are endeavouring to create a world where growing old doesn’t mean being sick and unable to have children any more. Their efforts might fail, but given the payoff, I think it is definitely worth trying.

If this is all new to you, you might be interested to know more in detail what rejuvenation is, or you might have some concerns about it that need an answer. If so, have a look at what ageing and SENS are, why ageing is a problem, and the Answers to objections section.

Some concerns on US politics and rejuvenation

Sometimes, bad news are good news in disguise. Some other times, it might be the other way around. I’ve been concerned for a while about certain turns that the situation of anti-ageing research might take in the future, and perhaps is already taking right now.

So. Donald Trump is President of the US.

My personal opinion of Trump is that he’s an incompetent, self-absorbed buffoon with the mental capacity of a retarded 5-year-old and the scientific understanding of a dead ant. His lack of respect for basic human rights is appalling. He possesses no moral or intellectual integrity to be spoken of, has a despicable habit of providing ‘alternative facts‘, and his ego is far too large to fit in this universe. My understanding is that he’s also accused by some of certain crimes, but I don’t really know if it’s true, so I will suspend my judgement on that. Anyway, my opinion of Trump isn’t important. What is important is that a lot of people have a similar opinion of him. When you have such a low opinion of somebody, it’s very easy to have a similarly low opinion of anything they do or that is associated with them, regardless of the actual merits of what they do or are associated with. In other words, it’s very easy to reason like this: ‘Trump is an idiot, therefore anything he does or is associated with is idiotic,’ whence ‘If Trump did X, or is somehow associated with X, then X must be idiotic.’ Especially in the case of Trump, it’s tempting to think like this. However, this reasoning is incorrect, and I don’t think I need to explain why. Two important consequences of this reasoning might be the following:

  • The public opinion on measures, changes, or initiatives taken or implemented by Trump could become extremely negative. This could be especially true if people thought said measures were already controversial to begin with, whether taken by Trump or others.
  • Future administrations might wish to distance themselves from Trump’s administration as much as possible, particularly if he screws up really badly or if he falls before the end of his mandate. To this end, they might want to undo changes operated by Trump and do the opposite of what he did. Again, this might be especially true in case of controversial measures on which public opinion was divided or largely negative.

Okay. Maybe it is like that. Why should you care? Well, Peter Thiel is an advisor to Donald Trump. I’m not sure what the exact title of Thiel’s position is, or how official or permanent it is, but it is pretty clear that he has the ear of the President.

I don’t have an opinion on Peter Thiel. All I know is that he co-founded PayPal and that he’s pretty much in favour of all sorts of technological and scientific progress, including, but not limited to, the defeat of ageing. As a matter of fact, Thiel is notoriously a strong supporter of SENS and has donated tons of money to SENS—something like over 6 million dollars. So far, so good. One could argue that people like Thiel (and Elon Musk, who’s also on Trump’s advisory board) might be able prevent Trump from fucking everything up, and in the case of Thiel, even help give a little push to anti-ageing research. Indeed, Thiel may be able to have his associate Jim O’Neill appointed as head of the FDA. Do you know where Jim O’Neill sits? On the board of directors of SENS.

So? What’s my problem? A board member of SENS might become the head of the FDA. This is cause for celebration, right? He could speed up the development of rejuvenation biotechs like never before, right? Yes, in theory. I would be celebrating this news if it wasn’t for two lingering concerns bothering me ever since I heard about it.

My first concern should be pretty clear. As much as we wished otherwise, rejuvenation is still a controversial idea that most people welcome with extreme scepticism at best; associating it with Trump might be a bad thing in the long term. Imagine O’Neill really becomes head of the FDA and really pushes the idea forward. The political adversaries of Trump might well make use of this against him. They could accuse him of wasting taxpayers’ money on pipe dreams, of attempting to undermine the natural order of things, and could raise all the usual objections to rejuvenation we’re used to hear. As advocates of rejuvenation, we all know that even perfectly reasonable people tend to fall for these objections without even questioning them; if they’re blinded by political hatred, I fear they’ll be even more likely to buy into these arguments and become well persuaded that rejuvenation is an impossible goal that only a fool like Trump could ever try to pursue. Some of the least bright minds might even believe that he wants to achieve immortality to rule the world forever, or some other crazy nonsense like that.

A possible result is that the opposition against rejuvenation might increase. Trump’s successors might undo any pro-rejuvenation initiative he might have enacted and steer clear from the cause. Crowdfunding efforts might become more difficult, and the fear of bad publicity might drive private investors away. Remember how Aubrey de Grey always says there’s at least a 10% chance that we won’t get rejuvenation for another 100 years? This might be the most direct way to pump that percentage all the way up to 50%.

But wait—it gets worse. If you’ve read some of the articles I linked above, you might have got the same creeping feeling that authors are trying to present Thiel as more of a weirdo than an innovator. Maybe that isn’t their intention; still, a fervent opposer of Trump reading that one of his advisors is into building cities on the sea, has a ‘well-documented obsession with life-extension technologies, including extending his own lifespan with blood transfusions from young people’ (cit. from Vanity Fair above), and thinks the FDA is in the way of drug innovation, may easily conclude that these are the hallmarks of a nutcase. Jim O’Neill isn’t in a better position, really, because he’s into pretty much the same things, and more than one article present him as a dangerous radical who speaks at biotech meetings without being a physician. They’re not very upfront about it, but I do think they’re subtly implying he’s incompetent at best and crazy at worst. How much, if at all, is their opinion of Trump influencing their opinion of Thiel and O’Neill? How will this influence their opinion of rejuvenation?

Some papers may be deliberately misrepresenting Thiel and O’Neill, and I don’t necessarily share such extreme opinions on them. I don’t know enough about them to even have a clear opinion. To be honest, I have my doubts about their idea that drugs should be approved right after passing safety tests, even if efficacy isn’t proved; this is my second concern. This idea is quite controversial, yet it seems to be shared by many within SENS (including Aubrey de Grey—he’s pretty upfront about it in Ending Aging) and others within the movement (most notably FA!). I’m willing to bet this is another argument that Trump’s opposers could easily use against him—for example, they could argue that loosening drug approval criteria may end up flooding the market with placebos and potentially dangerous medicines. True or not, this argument’s appeal to fear could be very powerful, especially among Trump’s opposers, and could do an even better job at convincing them that supporters of rejuvenation are dangerously crazy. (As a side note, if something did go wrong as a consequence of a hastily approved anti-ageing drug, I fear the shockwave would be felt throughout the entire field for decades to come.) However, I haven’t made my mind up about this whole FDA thing. I need to do more research and ask for more opinions before I come to a conclusion; therefore, I’ll leave this matter for another post.

Under different circumstances, I’d be extremely happy to know that a SENS board member might be part of the US President’s entourage. Further research might make me less worried about O’Neill’s proposals for the FDA, but I’d really prefer the first President to endorse SENS to be someone else than a total moron with great chances to be remembered as the worst and most hated US President in history.

Maybe I’m blowing it out of proportions. I certainly hope so.

PS: It’s okay if you disagree with my opinions. It’s okay if you want to comment to say it. However, I’m not interested in debating if Hillary, or any other candidate, would have been better than Trump or anything like that. I don’t know, and I don’t even care.

Again on ageing as a disease: A rectification

My previous post was somewhat confusing even to myself. To be completely frank, I think it was a little bit of a fuck-up. Several people have commented about it, for example on Reddit or Facebook, pointing out among the rest that whether or not ageing is a disease isn’t just semantics and it isn’t pointless. (To the people commenting on Facebook, I’d like to say that I’m sorry I didn’t reply to your comments, but for some reason I was stuck as ‘Rejuvenaction’ on those posts, and Pages don’t seem to be allowed to comment on group posts. I tried to switch to my personal account to no avail. I figured out a workaround, but at this point it’s a bit too late.)

What I meant to say is that arguing whether or not ageing is a medical condition is far less important than treating its root causes, and as long as we focused on this task, we could postpone the debate to a later time. The finer points of establishing if ageing fits the definition of ‘disease’ to the letter would waste precious time we could spend saving lives instead; we should definitely not wait until the issue has been settled before we start developing rejuvenation biotechnologies. (And we are not waiting at all, luckily.) However, classifying ageing as a disease is very important and not at all pointless, as Reason of FA! explained in this post. In a nutshell, if the ageing processes that lead to age-related diseases were considered pathological, research on how to interfere with them would likely receive more funding, and drugs that target ageing itself could be approved by the FDA. (The FDA only approves drugs that target recognised diseases; if ageing isn’t recognised as one, no drugs targeting it would be approved.) I think there might be a chance that some bona-fide anti-ageing drugs would be approved even if ageing wasn’t recognised as a disease—for example, drugs that clear the amyloid plaques that build up in the brain would essentially be rejuvenation therapies preventing Alzheimer’s disease, and as such I suppose they would be approval material for the FDA, even if they did’t recognise ageing itself as a disease; nevertheless, it’s clear that things would be easier in terms of getting funding and approving drugs if the whole ageing process was classified as a disease.

That being said, if we want to decide if ageing is a disease, we really do need to have good definitions of both terms. It turns out that defining ‘disease’ is not a simple problem, and apparently WHO themselves don’t have an official definition. They do have a definition of health, though, which says among the rest that ‘ Health is […] not merely the absence of disease or infirmity’; the lack of an official WHO definition of disease makes their definition of health a bit problematic, in my opinion. I suppose they rely on the intuitive idea of ‘disease’ we all have, but as a mathematician, I find this decidedly insufficient. If you look up ‘disease’ on Wikipedia, you’ll find this:

A disease is a particular abnormal condition, a disorder of a structure or function, that affects part or all of an organism.

I don’t like this definition very much, because it might imply that a ‘normal’ condition isn’t a disease; however, the incidence of age-related disease grows higher and higher with age, to the point that I don’t see how they couldn’t be considered ‘normal’ past a certain age; that’s why I prefer a definition along the lines of ‘a definite pathological process having a characteristic set of signs and symptoms’.

As for the definition of ‘ageing’, I stick to Aubrey de Grey‘s definition, i.e. that ageing is the process of accumulation of damage the body inflicts itself as a side-effect of its normal operations. In the post we’re discussing, I said that even according to this definition, ageing wasn’t a disease, but only a cause of disease; I used a comparison I found very fit, i.e. that ageing is to age-related diseases what viruses are to infections. However, upon more careful reflection, this comparison is a bit misleading. It’s true that a virus is not a disease; however, a virus isn’t a process either, unlike ageing. A better comparison would be between age-related damage and viruses. The accumulation of damage could then be (rather loosely) compared to an infection, in the sense that both are processes that happen over time: They begin, they progress, and eventually give rise to symptoms and full-blown diseases.

Now, at least according to the second definition of ‘disease’ I provided, ageing seems to be one, because it is a pathological process (although an extraordinarily long one) that has a characteristic set of signs and symptoms. While symptoms and visible signs of ageing don’t show up until late in life, more subtle signs (accumulation of senescent cells, or cross-links, for example) are present inside your body basically at all times. The reason I call it a ‘pathological’ process is that the damage caused by ageing is, as said, a side-effect of your metabolism; it’s a bug, not a feature, left around by evolution because it was generally not serious enough to prevent you from reaching reproductive age. It’s a disease that stays silent until a certain threshold is reached—again, pretty much like an infection until there are enough viruses around to wreak havok.

Ultimately, ageing may or may not be a disease depending on the definition of ‘disease’ we want to adopt. With enough nitpicking, ageing may well not be a disease according to some definitions, but in principle we could change definitions around so much that Alzheimer’s disease stops being a disease and mountain climbing suddenly becomes one. (This is an intentionally ridiculous example.) I have no problem admitting that this is not what my previous post seemed to say, and I honestly have no idea how I managed to twist my own thoughts around so much that they ended up contradicting things I wrote before. I have a hunch I had grown a bit too fond of the metaphors I used in that post, which again seemed fitting but were confusing. I’m not a fan of revisionism, so my previous post is going to stay up right the way it is, just with a link to this one.

As a side note, some now-recognised age-related diseases were considered to be part of ‘normal’ ageing in the relatively recent past. Seems to me ‘normal’ is a safety-blanket word that we use to feel okay about not doing anything to change something that is not good and difficult to change. Or maybe, it’s just that we like feeling ‘normal’. If you’re 78 and your doctor says you’ve got high blood pressure, he’ll also probably reassure you and say that ‘at your age, it is normal’. So what? That only means that it’s common for a person of your age to have unhealthy blood pressure, and it’s in no way different from saying that it is normal for a smoker to have their lungs full of crap. It’s normal alright, but it is very bad nonetheless.

Health before semantics

Update: If you read this post, I recommend you also read this one. It clarifies a few things I got wrong or expressed poorly here.

Whether or not ageing ought to be considered a disease is still matter of controversy, both among experts and laypeople. Particularly, the latter tend to turn up their noses at the thought of ageing being pathological and not ‘normal’, especially if they’re outside the life-extension/rejuvenation community. Clearly, they ignore the fact that ‘normal’ and ‘pathological’ aren’t mutually exclusive at all. It’s perfectly normal to suffer from hearing loss in old age; notwithstanding, it is out of the question that hearing loss is a pathology and we have developed several ways to make up for it. It presently can’t be cured, because like all age-related diseases, it can only get worse as long as the age-related damage that causes it keeps accumulating.

In my humble opinion of quasi-layperson (I’m nowhere near being an expert, but I do think I know about ageing more than your average Joe), whether or not ageing is a disease is merely a matter of semantics, depending largely on what we want to label as ‘ageing’—not to mention how we define ‘disease’.

If we say that ‘ageing’ is the set of age-related pathologies that affect a given person, then ageing isn’t a disease any more than a box of crayons is itself a crayon. Nonetheless, if you have a box of crayons then you have a bunch of crayons; if you have ageing as we defined it, then you have a bunch of diseases, and the grand total of your ailments doesn’t change whether you consider ageing as a disease as well or not. Quite frankly, I’d pick the box of crayons over ageing any time.

We could define ‘ageing’ differently. We could define it as the damage accumulation processes that eventually give rise to the pathologies of old age. This is a much more sensible definition, because it emphasises the fact ageing is a process that happens gradually over time, starting on day 1. You don’t ‘get’ ageing late in life; you were born with it. When ageing is in its early stages, for example in your 20s or 30s, you can’t really call its effects a ‘disease’ any more than you can call a spec of dust a ‘dust cloud’; when you’re 20, you’re no more ‘sick’ with ageing than a table with a single dust spec on its surface is ‘dusty’. However, during later stages of ageing pathologies are the norm, and the progression of the ageing process exacerbates them further. According to this definition, ageing is still not a disease, but its the cause of many diseases, in pretty much the same way a virus is not the disease it causes: Rhinoviruses are not the common cold; they merely cause it. (This is where the analogy stops. All ageing and viruses have in common is that they both cause diseases. Ageing is certainly not an infectious pathogen!) Notice that, even though HIV, for example, is not itself a disease, we can all agree that we should get rid of it because it causes a horrible disease, namely AIDS. For the same reason, even if ageing did not fit our definition of disease, it is clear that it causes horrible diseases; this should be enough to stop bickering over semantics and just focus on getting rid of ageing already.

We could also think of ageing as an ‘über disease’: A disease whose symptoms are diseases themselves; a ‘disease of diseases’. This is more along the lines of what Aubrey de Grey calls ageing, and he’s not wrong, because what we currently see happening in old age is essentially the sum of different age-related pathologies all happening at more or less the same time.

If you ask me, even without going into the details of the biology of ageing, I’d say that, strictly speaking, it’s probably not a disease (some say it’s neither a disease, nor a non-disease), but it obviously causes crippling pathologies; however, if classifying ageing as a disease may help us get sooner to a world free of age-related diseases, I’m definitely in favour of doing it. I’ll gladly discuss the semantics of the matter after the diseases of old age will no longer be a problem. (*)

(*) Please, do have a look at my first comment below for a further clarification of my stand on the matter.

Ending Aging in Italian

As you might know, I’m Italian. I’ve long left Italy, so I won’t be able to attend the event which I’ll shortly tell you about, but I would still like to give it some extra visibility.

Ending Aging, the book by Aubrey de Grey describing how medical science will be able to fully treat ageing in the foreseeable future, has been translated into Italian with the title La fine dell’invecchiamento (literally, ‘the end of ageing’). The book was published by D Editore—an independent Italian publishing house foucused on transhumanism and related topics—and will be presented on December 1st, 2016, at 18:00 at the bookstore Libreria Cultora, located in via Ughelli 39, 00179 Rome, Italy.

If you’re Italian or speak Italian, you might want to attend. If you know any Italian or Italian speaker, you could help the rejuvenation cause by letting them know of this event. Probably, the most effective way of spreading the word is sharing the relevant Facebook event.

I’d like to thank Emmanuele Pilia for the efforts he put into this project. If you wish, you may follow him on Twitter and/or D Editore, both on Twitter and Facebook.

Thanks!

Why so much hostility towards SENS?

You probably are not aware that, earlier this month, there was a bit of a Facebook flamewar between a few SENS opposers and some life-extensionists, some (or even all, I don’t know) of whom were SENS supporters.

The flamewar was started by Jason Pontin, the editor-in-chief of MIT Technology Review, who posted on his own Facebook wall a link to an article on Nature claiming that human lifespan has an upper limit past which one cannot go.  Other articles have been written in response to it—for example, this and this—expressing scepticism on the validity of the research  mentioned in the original article. As it was pointed out, it is quite obvious that human lifespan has an upper limit, but this doesn’t mean that we can’t devise medical interventions to greatly extend our lifespans. We know that humans tend get too sick and die after a certain age; if this wasn’t the case, there would be no reason for anti-ageing research to exist. In this sense, the article on Nature was basically saying that water is wet.

Anyway, this post isn’t about the controversy stirred up by the article on Nature. I said Pontin started the flamewar, and you might be wondering how so. Well, the thing is, the post he made on his wall was public, and he tagged Aubrey de Grey in it, saying verbatim

pontin

(Note that Pontin’s accusations are nonsense, for the same reasons I was explaining above: If Aubrey de Grey disputed the ‘dark truth’ of our limited lifespan, he would not have devised SENS in the first place.)

As a side note, this is the same Pontin who in 2005 threw the MIT challenge to prove that ‘SENS is so wrong that it is not worthy of learned debate’—challenge which he lost. Tagging people just to publicly insult them is silly enough, especially for a person in Pontin’s position, but the actual flamewar was even worse;  while childish behaviour was exhibited by at least some members of both parties involved, I must say that Pontin and those who sided with him cut an extremely poor figure and came across as high-school bullies at best. I’m not going to delve deeper into the details of it; if you think you can stomach it, you can go through the flamewar yourself and see how a bunch of grown-ups spent several hours (if not longer) throwing poo at each other via the Internet. (To my shame, I must admit I also wrote a comment or two, but thankfully I was too late for the party to be dragged deeper into it.)

But this post isn’t about the flamewar either; this was just a necessary preamble. This incident got me thinking. Why does SENS face such a fierce opposition? Why all these clearly emotional, gut-driven reactions? Forget Pontin: He’s probably still bitter about the lost challenge, and if you read his comments it’s quite clear he probably has unresolved Aubrey-issues from school. A lot of other people over the years have raged against SENS and labelled it as quack science, a fraud, nonsense, and what you have, while having no evidence that this was the case. Sure, SENS is not fully established science yet, and who knows, maybe it will never be; we don’t know for a fact. But isn’t this case with tons of other research projects? Isn’t the very purpose of research to establish what works and what doesn’t? If SENS critics are so sure that SENS will never work, they really don’t need to bother throwing challenges to disprove it and attacking it so ferociously. They could just sit back and watch as SRF prove themselves wrong through their own research. On top of that, even if SENS were wrong, all the data coming from their work will certainly prove itself invaluable for future research endeavours. Win-win.

Personally, I came to the conclusion that what caused SENS to be so unpopular (at least initially) amongst the experts of the field might be its clearly stated goal of curing ageing. Biogerontologists are not immune to the pro-ageing trance by default; also, as far as I know, at the time when Aubrey de Grey first introduced SENS to the world he was practically unknown and quite new on the scene. To top it all, he was from a different field. I can see how other experts would be rather pissed at an outsider who comes out of nowhere and claims he’s got the solution to a problem they mostly weren’t even trying to solve. Maybe SENS wouldn’t have faced any opposition if it had kept a low profile and disguised itself as mere research-for-the-sake-of-research, as it was customary in the field of gerontology back in the day.

On the other hand, people like David Sinclair and Bill Andrews too are set on bringing ageing under medical control, and to the best of my knowledge, they don’t face nearly the same opposition as SENS does. Maybe it’s because they followed a more traditional career path than Aubrey de Grey. Maybe their approaches are more orthodox, or maybe SENS has more media exposure and thus is more likely to be criticised. Maybe it’s because of Aubrey’s bold claim that the first person to reach 1000 years of age has already been born[1]. I don’t know for a fact why SENS faces such fierce criticism. All I know is that, quite likely, if Aubrey de Grey hadn’t been shouting from the rooftops for the past 16 years that we can and should cure ageing, this tremendous problem wouldn’t be receiving nearly as much attention as it does today.

 


1. People generally don’t get this one right. He does not say that we will soon develop therapies that will make us live 1000 years. That doesn’t even make sense in the context of SENS, which is a panel of therapies that would need to be periodically reapplied. What Aubrey says is that we’ll probably get around 30 extra years of healthy life with the first round of SENS; during this time, perfected versions of the same therapies are likely to have been developed, granting even more extra years of healthy living, and so on. This concept is known as longevity escape velocity.