My wife knows at least two things about the Christmas presents she will receive in the morning: first, she will receive a firewire; and second, she does not want a firewire. Well, she doesn't really know what a firewire is, yet. It began as a new word in the subject line of an email that she saw over my shoulder. It became something to ask her friends about. Currently, it is perhaps a cable for a bigger computer monitor, or maybe something that would enable her to share recorded video on multiple televisions . . . but not something she really wants.

She really wants to be able to edit home videos. She knows she needs software for this, and hinted to me this interest. As it turns out, however, we already have the software. What we did not have is a way of transferring video from her camcorder to the computer. That's where a firewire can be useful, and I suspect she'll end up wanting it when she understands how it may help her.

This evening, if we turn our hearts and minds to Christ then it is because we feel and understand how he will help us get what we really want, beyond death and hell.

Not all of us feel or understand Christ. Despite wanting something like immortality and eternal life, and despite knowing something about possible technical enablers for the approach to fulfilling such desires, some do not want Christ. Christ began as a new word, became something to ask friends about, and currently is perhaps a galactic tyrant or maybe a historic fraud . . . not something we really want.

For the pursuit of life, we know we need genetics, nanotech and robotics. As it turns out, information technology is trending toward enabling them. What is more difficult to discern is whether we are trending toward being the kind of community that chooses to use technology charitably. That's where Christ can be useful.

From the manger through the garden and cross to the heavens, Christ assures his disciples' hope in a better world. This hope was not new to early Christians, but rather the gospels were for them the latest and grandest confirmation of hope inherited from their ancestors. This hope moved them, as today it moves so many of us to teach of and engage in the work of God toward immortality and eternal life. I suspect more of us will end up wanting Christ when we understand how he may help us.

Merry Christmas, Transhumanists!

On 29 November, author and lawyer Wesley J. Smith posted an article criticizing Transhumanism as follows:

1) Transhumanism is incorrect in its position that modern humans have become fundamentally different from their ancestors.

2) Transhumanism is arrogantly presumptuous in its position that one should impose her will on others.

To support the first criticism, Smith claims that our ancestors were fully human despite their far lower levels of technology. This demonstrates that he is misunderstanding or ignoring an important tenant of Transhumanism: technology, more than biology, is now driving human evolution. Our technology is a fundamental difference between us and our ancestors.

He further supports his first criticism by suggesting that the ancient discovery of fire and cave drawings are as impressive as modern trips to the moon and works of art in the Louvre. Ironically, however, this suggestion is accurate only to the extent that we recognize a fundamental difference between ourselves and our ancestors. Why is it, today, that no one will be extraordinarily impressed by making fire or scratching on walls? Because, as it turns out, we are now fundamentally different from our ancestors, for whom such actions were indeed extraordinary.

In support of the second criticism, Smith claims that Transhumanists advocate designing our children according to our will without consideration for the kinds of persons our children will want to be. This is simply inaccurate, of course. I don't know of any Transhumanist that advocates ignoring the desires of our children, except to the extent those desires may be destructive or oppressive. To the contrary, Transhumanists are quite interested in empowering our children with greater choice among the kinds of persons they can become. Where Smith's claim approaches accuracy is in the implication of concern that we will make mistakes, sometimes attempting to design our children in ways that are destructive or oppressive to them. This concern is valid: mistakes will happen, as they always have. The mistakes are not justified, but pretending they will not happen is foolish.

Does the risk of mistakes justify technophobia? Not for everyone. Some recognize great potential reward accompanying the risk, and desire such for themselves and their children. To prevent their pursuit, particularly when it is done responsibly, is precisely the kind of oppression that Smith attacks. In that, we agree: when we oppress another, we are generally in the wrong.