from the world's big
When should we stop trying to save the patient and focus on saving the organs?
A definition of death is surprisingly malleable, leading to complications when it comes to organ donation.
- The latest Hastings Center Report is dedicated to the question of defining death.
- Definitions of death are not only biological, but cultural, leading to important questions about organ donation.
- The brain can continue to be electrically active for five minutes after cardiac death—valuable time for patients in need of transplants.
One of the most disturbing movies I've ever watched is The Diving Bell and the Butterfly. Based on French fashion editor Jean-Dominuqe Bauby's book of the same name, it chronicles his life after waking up with locked-in syndrome having suffering from a massive stroke. While Bauby's mental faculties were entirely intact, he was paralyzed save the blinking of his left eyelid, which is the method he used to "write" his book.
Empathy is the vehicle of upset, why I shuddered during the entire film. Imagine yourself unable to move anything but an eyelid and remain completely aware of your condition. Bauby suffered from pseudocoma; there is also total locked-in syndrome, meaning you no longer have use of your eye muscles either. Still, you remain conscious.
Such a condition begs the question: Is this even living? It also brings to mind another question, one that is surprisingly more malleable than you might imagine: What does death mean? Turns out there are a variety of responses.
The latest issue of the Hastings Center Report (which you can access for free here), Defining Death: Organ Transplantation and the Fifty-Year Legacy of the Harvard Report on Brain Death, looks at the ways in which various cultures view death. There is no one singular answer.
Jason Silva - The Death Problem
In 'Death: An Evolving, Normative Concept', NYU Bioethics professor Arthur Caplan relates the story of Constantin Reliu, a Romanian who traveled to Turkey to make a living as a cook. At some point he lost contact with his family; his former wife reported him deceased to Romanian officials. After a 26 work trip, Reliu returned to his homeland. Only his government wouldn't accept the fact that he was alive.
His former wife had, unbeknownst to him, at some point during his stay in Turkey registered him as deceased in Romania. He has since been living a legal nightmare trying to prove to Romanian authorities that he is, in fact, alive.
Death, beyond a biological fact, is also cultural. As Caplan points out, definitions change not only nation by nation, but in America, state by state. In New Jersey, for example, the family of a vegetative patient has the right to decide whether or not brain death is actual death.
This might seem like a game reserved for philosophers and doctors, but there are real-world consequences when it comes to organ donors. If someone suffers brain death with no chance of recovery yet still has viable organs for donation, should it be considered immoral to keep that person alive until their organs are rendered useless? If someone else could have been saved thanks to the beating heart of a brain-dead patient, why would anyone deny the life of another?
KOLKATA, WEST BENGAL, INDIA: Students hold posters during a rally to create awareness about organ donation on the occasion of World Organ Donation day.
Photo by Saikat Paul/Pacific Press/LightRocket via Getty Images
It makes sense that we'd favor the loved one in front of us over someone we don't even know. Death, of course, is no easy prospect; its denial has led some to claim it causes the bulk of our neuroses while living. A body does not all die at once, however. Caplan cites a study in Berlin and Cincinnati where patients had their electrical signals in their brain monitored as they were dying:
Even after a person's heart had stopped for five minutes, cellular activity could still be detected. How often this is true in those declared dead due to cardiac failure, no one knows.
With technological advancements in health care, corpses can even be maintained "in some state of biological vitalism." It is possible that cellular functions and tissue growth can occur thanks to machinery. But to what end? No one wants to look at a dying person as a compilation of parts ready for dispersal. But if that person's vitalism is truly depleted, their biological legacy can live on in other bodies.
As health care is tied more into our smartphones and other devices and AI potentially extends our lifespans in innovative ways, this question is certain to become harder to answer. The line between machinery and biology has been explored for decades. As we implement new applications of technology, we might also have to once again change our definition of death. Just how much that adds to life remains to be seen.
Andy Samberg and Cristin Milioti get stuck in an infinite wedding time loop.
- Two wedding guests discover they're trapped in an infinite time loop, waking up in Palm Springs over and over and over.
- As the reality of their situation sets in, Nyles and Sarah decide to enjoy the repetitive awakenings.
- The film is perfectly timed for a world sheltering at home during a pandemic.
Richard Feynman once asked a silly question. Two MIT students just answered it.
Here's a fun experiment to try. Go to your pantry and see if you have a box of spaghetti. If you do, take out a noodle. Grab both ends of it and bend it until it breaks in half. How many pieces did it break into? If you got two large pieces and at least one small piece you're not alone.
But science loves a good challenge<p>The mystery remained unsolved until 2005, when French scientists <a href="http://www.lmm.jussieu.fr/~audoly/" target="_blank">Basile Audoly</a> and <a href="http://www.lmm.jussieu.fr/~neukirch/" target="_blank">Sebastien Neukirch </a>won an <a href="https://www.improbable.com/ig/" target="_blank">Ig Nobel Prize</a>, an award given to scientists for real work which is of a less serious nature than the discoveries that win Nobel prizes, for finally determining why this happens. <a href="http://www.lmm.jussieu.fr/spaghetti/audoly_neukirch_fragmentation.pdf" target="_blank">Their paper describing the effect is wonderfully funny to read</a>, as it takes such a banal issue so seriously. </p><p>They demonstrated that when a rod is bent past a certain point, such as when spaghetti is snapped in half by bending it at the ends, a "snapback effect" is created. This causes energy to reverberate from the initial break to other parts of the rod, often leading to a second break elsewhere.</p><p>While this settled the issue of <em>why </em>spaghetti noodles break into three or more pieces, it didn't establish if they always had to break this way. The question of if the snapback could be regulated remained unsettled.</p>
Physicists, being themselves, immediately wanted to try and break pasta into two pieces using this info<p><a href="https://roheiss.wordpress.com/fun/" target="_blank">Ronald Heisser</a> and <a href="https://math.mit.edu/directory/profile.php?pid=1787" target="_blank">Vishal Patil</a>, two graduate students currently at Cornell and MIT respectively, read about Feynman's night of noodle snapping in class and were inspired to try and find what could be done to make sure the pasta always broke in two.</p><p><a href="http://news.mit.edu/2018/mit-mathematicians-solve-age-old-spaghetti-mystery-0813" target="_blank">By placing the noodles in a special machine</a> built for the task and recording the bending with a high-powered camera, the young scientists were able to observe in extreme detail exactly what each change in their snapping method did to the pasta. After breaking more than 500 noodles, they found the solution.</p>
The apparatus the MIT researchers built specifically for the task of snapping hundreds of spaghetti sticks.
(Courtesy of the researchers)
What possible application could this have?<p>The snapback effect is not limited to uncooked pasta noodles and can be applied to rods of all sorts. The discovery of how to cleanly break them in two could be applied to future engineering projects.</p><p>Likewise, knowing how things fragment and fail is always handy to know when you're trying to build things. Carbon Nanotubes, <a href="https://bigthink.com/ideafeed/carbon-nanotube-space-elevator" target="_self">super strong cylinders often hailed as the building material of the future</a>, are also rods which can be better understood thanks to this odd experiment.</p><p>Sometimes big discoveries can be inspired by silly questions. If it hadn't been for Richard Feynman bending noodles seventy years ago, we wouldn't know what we know now about how energy is dispersed through rods and how to control their fracturing. While not all silly questions will lead to such a significant discovery, they can all help us learn.</p>
Finding a balance between job satisfaction, money, and lifestyle is not easy.
- When most of your life is spent doing one thing, it matters if that thing is unfulfilling or if it makes you unhappy. According to research, most people are not thrilled with their jobs. However, there are ways to find purpose in your work and to reduce the negative impact that the daily grind has on your mental health.
- "The evidence is that about 70 percent of people are not engaged in what they do all day long, and about 18 percent of people are repulsed," London Business School professor Dan Cable says, calling the current state of work unhappiness an epidemic. In this video, he and other big thinkers consider what it means to find meaning in your work, discuss the parts of the brain that fuel creativity, and share strategies for reassessing your relationship to your job.
- Author James Citrin offers a career triangle model that sees work as a balance of three forces: job satisfaction, money, and lifestyle. While it is possible to have all three, Citrin says that they are not always possible at the same time, especially not early on in your career.
The planet is making a lot less noise during lockdown.
- A team of researchers found that Earth's vibrations were down 50 percent between March and May.
- This is the quietest period of human-generated seismic noise in recorded history.
- The researchers believe this helps distinguish between natural vibrations and human-created vibrations.
Earth is quieter as coronavirus lockdowns reduce seismic vibration<span style="display:block;position:relative;padding-top:56.25%;" class="rm-shortcode" data-rm-shortcode-id="cc871d5d88a79ecc6605ce488c26a7c1"><iframe type="lazy-iframe" data-runner-src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/_yFF2MziwPA?rel=0" width="100%" height="auto" frameborder="0" scrolling="no" style="position:absolute;top:0;left:0;width:100%;height:100%;"></iframe></span><p>The team investigated seismic data from a global network of 268 stations spread out across 117 countries. As lockdown measures in different regions began, they tracked the drop in vibrations. Singapore and New York City recorded some of the biggest drops, though even Germany's Black Forest—famous for its association with the Brothers Grimm fairy tales—went quieter than usual.</p><p>The researchers also relied on citizen-owned seismometers in Cornwall and Boston, which recorded a 20 percent reduction from relatively quiet stretches in these college towns, such as during school holidays. </p><p>The environmental impact of lockdown has been dramatic. Indian skylines are notoriously grey. This <a href="https://www.axios.com/coronavirus-lockdown-pollution-drops-india-156b4f1d-160b-44d9-885a-148960b9e469.html" target="_blank">collection of photos</a> shows how quickly nature recovers when humans limit travel and industry. Such photographs also make you wonder why we cannot control emissions to begin with, now that we know the stakes. </p><p>Lead author, Dr Thomas Lecocq, says their research could help seismologists suss out the difference between human-created vibrations and natural vibrations, potentially resulting in longer lead times when natural disasters are set to strike. </p><p style="margin-left: 20px;">"With increasing urbanisation and growing global populations, more people will be living in geologically hazardous areas. It will therefore become more important than ever to differentiate between natural and human-caused noise so that we can 'listen in' and better monitor the ground movements beneath our feet. This study could help to kick-start this new field of study."</p>
Stray puppies play in an abandoned, partially-completed cooling tower inside the exclusion zone at the Chernobyl nuclear power plant on August 18, 2017 near Chornobyl, Ukraine.
Photo by Sean Gallup/Getty Images<p>The Earth is much stronger than us; humans are its products. In his 2007 book, "The World Without Us," Alan Weisman details just how quickly nature recovers from our insults. Chernobyl offers a <a href="http://www.bbc.com/earth/story/20160421-the-chernobyl-exclusion-zone-is-arguably-a-nature-reserve" target="_blank">real-world example</a>, while <a href="https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/even-if-injection-of-fracking-wastewater-stops-quakes-wont/" target="_blank">earthquakes caused by fracking-related wastewater injection</a> in Oklahoma are evidence of how much damage human "vibrations" cause.</p><p>Weisman's poetic homage imagines a symbiotic relationship with nature. This relationship depends on our cooperation, however. Weisman knows we aren't long for this world, nor is this world long for this universe: in just five billion years, give or take, Earth will implode. We all live on borrowed time. How we live during that time defines our character. </p><p>While he strikes a hopeful tone, Weisman knows nature will eventually have her way with us.</p><p style="margin-left: 20px;">"After we're gone, nature's revenge for our smug, mechanized superiority arrives waterborne. It starts with wood-frame construction, the most widely used residential building technique in the developed world. It begins on the roof, probably asphalt, or slate shingle, warranted to last two or three decades—but that warranty doesn't count around the chimney, where the first leak occurs." </p><p>The play-by-play of our demise continues, though Weisman offers plenty of proactive advice. The question is, will we be able to live up to it? Sadly, nothing in modern society hints at the possibility. </p><p>The only way we seem willing to pause our relentless pursuit of "progress" is when we're forced to do so, as in the current pandemic. The results, as the team in Belgium shows, are measurable. Whether or not we heed the call to slow our impact remains to be seen. Given precedent, it's unlikely, though as Weisman concludes, one can always dream. </p><p>--</p><p><em>Stay in touch with Derek on <a href="http://www.twitter.com/derekberes" target="_blank">Twitter</a>, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/DerekBeresdotcom" target="_blank">Facebook</a> and <a href="https://derekberes.substack.com/" target="_blank">Substack</a>. His next book is</em> "<em>Hero's Dose: The Case For Psychedelics in Ritual and Therapy."</em></p>