Radical Life Extension Is Already Here, But We’re Doing it Wrong
We’ve already tacked three decades onto the average lifespan of an American, so what’s wrong with adding another few decades?
So far as we know, the last hundred years have been the most radical period of life extension in all of human history. At the turn of the twentieth century, life expectancy for Americans was just over 49 years; by 2010, that number had risen to 78.5 years, mostly on account of improved sanitation and basic medicine. But life extension doesn’t always increase our well-being, especially when all that’s being extended is decrepitude. There’s a reason that Ponce de Leon went searching for the fountain of youth—if it were the fountain of prolonged dementia and arthritis he may not have bothered.
Over the past twenty years, biologists have begun to set their sights on the aging process itself, in part by paying close attention to species like the American Lobster, which, despite living as long as fifty years, doesn’t seem to age much at all. Though some of this research has shown promise, it’s not as though we’re on the brink of developing a magical youth potion. Because aging is so biologically complex, encompassing hundreds of different processes, it’s unlikely that any one technique will add decades of youth to our lives. Rather, the best we can hope for is a slow, incremental lengthening of our “youth-span,” the alert and active period of our lives.
Not everyone is thrilled by the prospect of radical life extension. As funding for anti-aging research has exploded, bioethicists have expressed alarm, reasoning that extreme longevity could have disastrous social effects. Some argue that longer life spans will mean stiffer competition for resources, or a wider gap between rich and poor. Others insist that the aging process is important because it gives death a kind of time release effect, which eases us into accepting it. These concerns are well founded. Life spans of several hundred years are bound to be socially disruptive in one way or another; if we’re headed in that direction, it’s best to start teasing out the difficulties now.
But there is another, deeper argument against life extension—the argument from evolution. Its proponents suggest that we ought to avoid tinkering with any human trait borne of natural selection. Doing so, they argue, could have unforeseen consequences, especially given that natural selection has such a sterling engineering track record. If our bodies grow old and die, the thinking goes, then there must be a good reason, even if we don’t understand it yet. Nonsense, says Bennett Foddy, a philosopher (and flash game developer!) from Oxford, who has written extensively about the ethics of life extension. “We think about aging as being a natural human trait, and it is natural, but it’s not something that was selected for because it was beneficial to us.” Foddy told me. “There is this misconception that everything evolution provides is beneficial to individuals and that’s not correct.”
Foddy has thought long and hard about the various objections to life extension and, for the most part, has found them wanting. This is our conversation about those objections, and about the exciting new biology of aging.
People usually regard life extension as a futuristic technology, but you begin your paper by discussing the ways that we’ve already extended the human lifespan. What’s driven that?
“There is this misconception that everything evolution provides has to be beneficial to individuals and that’s not correct.”