The concept of holograms has long been a subject of fascination for science fiction enthusiasts, both in film and in literature. From Star Trek: the Next Generation to more recent works like I, Robot, this fascination plays a significant role as directors, writers and producers explore the idea of holograms that not only portray life, but even appear to become self-aware. Artificial intelligence of that grade is a technology which at one time seemed unattainable. But with recent developments in hologram technology, and the massive amount of information (both public and private) stored in online databases, we may be facing it sooner than we think; not only is this thing once merely dreamed of now a possibility, it’s very close to becoming a reality.
And while the frontier of progress through untapped scientific discoveries is certainly an exciting one, as a society it is our duty to first stop and consider whether or not pursuing this kind of progress means overstepping our boundaries.
According to Adam Ostrow in his TED Talk, After Your Last Status Update, humans are headed down a technological path toward the realization of every science fiction geek’s dream: integration of a cold and calculating artificial intelligence with human personality derived and compiled from biographies, memoirs and even social media. In essence, Ostrow believes it entirely conceivable that in the not-too-distant future, we could potentially create holograms that look, talk and act like real human beings— even impersonate real people. Hologram technology like that would be revolutionary. Imagine if a holographic image could be summoned of any given person at any given time, whether that person is real or fictional, dead or alive, merely by programming a computer to mimic their behaviors. Entertainment, education, communication— all would be heavily impacted by widespread use of holograms.
Imagine, for instance, that instead of reading Abraham Lincoln’s biography, we chose to simply create a hologram of him and interview it. One might argue that this would be practically the same action as Googling the answer, and that may be true; a hologram could be considered just another source of knowledge, made even more accessible than ever. And Abraham Lincoln, is, in a certain sense, old news.
But imagine that we took that same technology and instead of using it for research, for arbitrary collection of knowledge, we applied it to a situation in which we are much more personally and emotionally invested. Imagine if, at the moment of a person’s death, a holographic image of them could be conjured up to take their place. It would be like they had never been gone; mourning would become an old tradition, unnecessary, obsolete. Death would lose its gravity, and in turn, life its value. We could spend entire lifetimes finding new ways to give computers convincingly lifelike qualities, all the while neglecting our own humanity. In hologram technology, as in all revolutionary technologies, there is great potential both for benefit and detriment, and a fine line between the two.
The concept of a hologram with personality remains, as yet, just a concept. But as we approach its achievement our fascination will only grow; in the interests of posterity, then, as a community of humans on Earth, we must strive not to allow our infatuation with the unknown to upset the balance of the world. In the Star Trek: TNG episode Elementary, Dear Data, Lt. Commander LaForge says it perfectly: “It’s human nature to love what we don’t have.” And, as Lizzie Bennet’s plain but sensible friend Charlotte Lucas puts it, “We are all fools in love.”
