This thin volume is a collection of 10 of Adam Mac's brain-in-the-vat (BIV) short fictions. These darkly humourous stories take off from the clever thought experiments of philosophers who have long discoursed on mind-brain duality and bring us to today when science and technology are taking over the narrative from science fiction to show us an emerging brave new taxonomy of 'life'—the Internet of (self-aware) Things. The first five stories are related and could be considered parts of a longer story. The others are somewhat random and independent of one another.
From the book:
The Dissertation
I was taking my lunch on the Common, and I overheard a conversation. Normally, I don't eavesdrop, but I have this new cell phone with a stealth sound amplifier, and I really wanted to try it outdoors.
It was incredible! I could hear everything ... 50 feet away! On a bench facing the fountain was an old couple. He was snoring and she was muttering something to the pigeons. A young woman was chasing three little boys who were chasing geese and then being chased by the geese. Then, there were these two ... from the college it looked like.
One spoke agitatedly. He was a graduate student ... in Philosophy and Neurophysiology. The other one had that professorial look about him — elbow patches, bifocals hanging around his neck, wispy white hair and a raspy baritone.
"Brain in the vat," I heard quite clearly, and that got my attention. I'd studied it when I sat in on one of those night school courses you see advertised in the subway. Sounded like mad science sci-fi not Philosophy, but all us guys in the class thought it was kinda cool — in theory. What if the 'external world' IS created by our minds or brains and what if we could create one of our own choosing?
"We have to do this. It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity," said the student.
"It has to be carefully thought out. We can't be rash and take needless risks," said the professor.
"But you said yourself, Professor, there's never been a better time."
"Granted, modern medical technology will ensure that the experiment is painless and reversible, at least in theory."
"And even if something goes wrong — God forbid, um, sorry Professor — it will be impossible to prove— "
"Ethically, we are beyond reproach. Legally, we will be beyond reach. National security's on our side, too."
"That's a double-edged sword though. I still have to defend my dissertation and to do that I have to go public."
"And I still think I, uh, we, have a shot at the Nobel. We just have to work out the details."
As they talked, I recalled the image of a human brain being surgically extracted and placed in a vat where it sucked in nutrients and then was subjected to endless combinations and permutations of electronic impulses. I'd had to write a paper from the brain's point of view, but I couldn't get past the images that the envatted brain would never know. I flunked.
"We still thinking along the same lines then?" the student asked.
"They deliver the subject. We conduct our experiments and give them their results. Then we experiment on a second subject — a chimpanzee brain would work — so we can publish our research. We can use the results as long as we don't mention the first experiments."
"Do you really think they'll go along, Professor?"
"Absolutely. According to the Director and the Chairman, they need this, but for the time being they have to fly under the radar, so to speak."
"Do we have a schedule?"
"End of the month," answered the professor. "Everything and everyone should be in place. Of course, we'll never know where ... ever."
"Should we meet again before then?"
"No, We'll be contacted."
"Did you hear something ... from over there?"
"That direction?" the professor said, pointing in my vicinity. "I thought I heard it earlier, too."
"Sounded like feedback from a cheap amplifying device."
"Hey, it wasn't cheap," I said under my breath, not cluing in.
"I'd better phone it in," said the professor. "It's probably nothing, but it might be one of those needless risks that could screw this up for us unless we eliminate it."
Eliminate. Needless risk. Screw up. That's ME they're talking about! I slipped over the back of the bench, got up but ran low to the ground all the way to the subway entrance.
No black SUVs, no men in black. On the northbound platform, all was clear ... until the Peter Gunn theme startled me. It was just my ringtone, but it was so LOUD underground. I didn't answer. "Brian, Inuvit." Northwest Territories, really?
In the Vat
The graduate student and the professor were alone with the brain. They didn't and wouldn't ever know where. It was underground but how far, they had no idea. Now that the first phase was complete, the Sponsors' researchers and scientists had returned to their offices.
High resolution CCTV cameras covered every angle of the lab, and the brain in the vat was centrally located behind an invisible protection screen.
Do you think he's noticed that we made him a Canadian, Professor?
No, I don't think so. We've blocked selected regions of his biographical memory, and the results indicate that our synaptic repression has succeeded. He believes he IS exactly what we've input — father a fireman in New Brunswick, sister in the Army in Afghanistan, female roommate—
And is experiencing what we input — a cell phone with a Peter Gunn ringtone, a one-eared teenager, a water-stained ceiling in a low-rent high-rise apartment building. Bernie, Brigit's beagle, all—
Markers, that help us track his perception of his new and unfolding reality — his attempt to escape — from us and our Sponsors.
And he thinks he CAN escape. How ironic.
Yes, it is, but it's better that way. I don't think a brain, or a mind, I should say, could possibly endure the thought of its own surgical extraction and placement in a laboratory vat for scientific study.
Thank God, uh, sorry Professor. Thank goodness this process is reversible.
It is, in theory, but since it's never been tested, getting that answer will be a key part of our research.
Since the subject isn't aware of the experimental context, don't you think his paranoia is—
It's not paranoia. What's happening to him is real — the black SUVs, the men in black, the escape. It's as real to him as your are for me or I am for you.
Of course, you're right Professor. I misspoke. The subject has effectively demonstrated the ability to distinguish between the real and the unreal. He even alluded to it on one occasion, when he mentioned the futuristic laser weapon as something he wished were real so he could "neutralize the bad guys."
Yes, that was truly remarkable.
Wasn't it? It's turning out exactly as I'd hoped when I started this dissertation. And it's only now sinking in that we've already gone far beyond the philosophers' brain-in-a-vat thought experiment.
This will be our legacy — yours and mine — to science and philosophy, but we can't forget our sponsors. They have a different set of priorities in mind—
So to speak.
Indeed.
One thing troubles me. Why the cloak and dagger? Why not simply stimulate the subject to be compliant and cooperative?
Our Sponsors' methods of interrogation are hardwired, and our Sponsors are not easily persuaded to change their approach. That's why they proposed the fugitive scenario as a demonstration of the envatted brain's susceptibility to an induced mental reality.
They have to be satisfied so far though, right Professor? The subject is definitely on the run and all because we created the necessary and sufficient conditions for triggering his flight response.
Absolutely. And it's all documented and usable in our research, with the exception of the identities of our Sponsors and the brain. That's non-negotiable.
So, our next step is to parachute a character into the brain's mental world, and this character will persuade the subject to give up running and turn itself in. Any complications that we may have missed?
It's inevitable that there will be complications. We have to be ready for that.
Of course. The first phase we expected to be relatively smooth, since creating fear reactions in an envatted brain — albeit not human — has been successfully achieved in previous experiments. Replicating trust — that's where we anticipated having some challenges.
As far as the Sponsors are concerned, that's the crucial experiment. Our success hinges on being able to prove that the envatted brain can be made to trust just as effectively as it can be made to fear. In their language, we have to turn the brain.
The grad student scanned the bank of terminals on the wall, pored over the latest half dozen or so pages of the experiment log and transcripts, and announced incredulously that the brain in the vat was exhibiting signs of autonomous behavior.
Impossible!
But look, Professor! The feedback in these transcripts indicates that the subject's fear has dissipated. But how? It's as if it thinks it has escaped, but it can't possibly feel free from danger. Not until we modify its perceptual inputs. We should—
We've got to intensify the stimulus pattern, try an accelerated algorithm, and re-establish a stable level of fear in the brain. We have to bring this under control before morning and without surveillance. The cameras ... can you—
The professor was interrupted by a sudden power surge. The backup power failed, except in the case of the vat, which had a dedicated line with power supply redundancy. But the vat's backup reservoir sprang a leak that quickly turned into a gusher flooding the lab with a foot-and-a-half of water and brain nutrients. As suddenly as the lights went out, they came back on again giving the grad student the professor time to witness the spectacular arcing across the water's surface. It came from the vat.
