68
Science & technology
The Economist
September 5th 2020
2
1
mapping of where (and when) casualties
were suffered, broadly confirmed the find-
ings from the interviews.
Crucially, this fieldwork revealed much
about the casualties various types of units
can take before survivors lose the will to
fight. A typical fighting force, it is generally
thought, will collapse sometime before a
third of it has been destroyed. Some Kurd-
ish and
is
units in Iraq, however, fought on
in a co-ordinated fashion after sustaining
far more grievous losses. Artis therefore
tried to classify and measure the belief sys-
tems behind such remarkable bravery.
One finding was that a fighter’s identity
must have fully “fused” with those of his
brothers in arms. The top priority of such
fighters must, says the think-tank’s boss,
Richard Davis, have shifted from family to
another cause, a transcendental ideal that
has become so “sacralised” that it would
not be traded away for anything. Artis’s re-
searchers identified fighters who had men-
tally downgraded their families to second
or third place. Some were Peshmerga, who
most valued “Kurdeity”—a love for the
homeland steeled with commitment to fel-
low Kurds and Kurdish culture. Many
is
captives, for their part, had shunted their
families into third place behind the caliph-
ate and sharia. Units girded with those be-
liefs had fought on effectively even after
seven-tenths of their comrades had fallen.
The broad outline of this analysis
would, of course, be familiar to any student
of military history. Fanaticism has long
been recognised as a plus in a soldier, be it
the Zealots of ancient Israel, the Roman
Catholic conquistadors of the Americas, or
the Nazis’ 12th
ss
“Hitler Youth” Panzer Di-
vision. What is different about the Artis ap-
proach is its attempt to quantify, or at least
to approximate, what is going on. That
should help both in assessments of an ene-
my’s performance on the battlefield, and in
designing training and indoctrination pro-
grammes for your own side.
Based on their work in Iraq, Artis’s 45 or
so behavioural scientists have now led
studies on willingness to fight and die for
customers in 21countries as diverse as Brit-
ain, Egypt and Guatemala. The goal is to in-
corporate such insights into predictive
software. One organisation working on do-
ing this is the United States Air Force Acad-
emy’s Warfighter Effectiveness Research
Centre (
werc
), in Colorado.
werc
’s re-
searchers are using Artis’s data to quantify
how different levels of the will to fight alter
the performance of tasks. For example, ac-
cording to Lieutenant-Colonel Chad Tos-
sell,
werc
’s director, aircraft pilots whose
wills are flagging are unlikely to buckle
completely, but their reaction times typi-
cally slow down. His team is developing
equations that reflect this. These are then
fed into a version of “Far Cry”, a video game
that the air force is modifying to incorpo-
rate will-to-fight calculations into combat
simulations.
Comparing how unblooded cadets play
the game with the approach taken by com-
bat veterans will permit
werc
to compile
data on how experience, sex, age and other
factors affect the speed with which players
do things like throwing their virtual selves
onto a grenade to save their comrades. How
much a willingness to perform such an ac-
tion in a game translates into behaviour on
the battlefield remains to be seen. But the
hope, Lieut-Colonel Tossell says, is that
this study will, within two years, help the
air force to nudge recruits into combat po-
sitions that make the most of their level of
will to fight. The research, he adds, has al-
ready led to greater emphasis in training on
the transcendental ideals that underpin
America’s support for its own driving ideo-
logical creed: liberal democracy.
7
I
n idle moments
, people sometimes
dream about the future. Of cars that can
drive themselves. Of travelling to other
planets. Of moving objects by the power of
thought. Whichever particular dream you
have, though, Elon Musk is probably trying
to make it real. Self-driving cars and travel
to Mars are the provinces of two of his
firms, Tesla and SpaceX respectively. Mov-
ing objects by the power of thought is the
province of a third, Neuralink. And on Au-
gust 28th, at a presentation broadcast over
the internet, Mr Musk showed off the firm’s
progress. The highlight was the appearance
of Gertrude, a pig with a chip implanted
into her brain.
Reading the brain’s electrical signals, a
technique called electroencephalography
(
eeg
), started more than 100 years ago and
is now routine. It generally involves plac-
ing electrodes non-invasively on the scalp,
though it sometimes requires the invasive
insertion of wires into the scalp or the
brain itself.
Non-invasive
eeg
provides useful in-
formation, and can even be employed to do
things like playing simple computer games
via software which interprets the signals
received and turns them into instructions.
It is, though, a crude approach to monitor-
ing the activity of an organ that contains
85bn nerve cells and trillions of connec-
tions between them. Invasive
eeg
offers
higher resolution readings from those
nerve cells, albeit at greater risk because of
the surgery involved. The device Gertrude
carries, known technically as a brain-com-
puter interface (
bci
), carries invasiveness
one stage further still by making the
eeg
re-
corder a potentially permanent implant.
Signals from implants such as this
might be employed to control a prosthetic
limb, or even a real one that brain or spinal-
cord injury has deprived of its normal
nerve connections. They might also be
used to control non-medical machinery, if
someone thought it worth the risk of hav-
ing a
bci
implanted to do this. And it is pos-
sible to use them to send signals in the op-
posite direction, too, to give instructions to
the brain rather than receive them. That
might be used to generate signals which
suppress an incipient epileptic seizure.
Neuralink’s
bci
, the size of a British tup-
penny piece, carries 1,000 flexible elec-
trode threads, each of which has a diameter
less than a quarter of that of a human hair.
This flexibility is important because the
brain moves around in the skull and the
electrodes must be able to accommodate
this movement while continuing to work.
The device communicates wirelessly, and
is recharged by induction. This means that,
unlike many previous attempts to build
bci
s, it requires no skin-penetrating cable
that might admit infections to the body.
Along with this improved interface
Neuralink has built a robot that will im-
plant it. To do so, the robot first takes a
high-resolution scan of the recipient’s
brain. Using this, it is able to sew the elec-
trode threads into place with a precision
that avoids any blood vessels in the area.
That, Mr Musk said, reduces the risk of
damage during surgery. The robot can put
the interface in place in less than an hour,
he said, though it cannot yet open the skull
in order to do so. General anaesthesia is
not, he said, needed for the procedure.
The highlight of the show, though, was
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