T R A N S H U M A N C E

June 26, 2748. In 6 hours, Pixel, who would have turned 13 next month, will die. A notification received via their smart contact lens last week announced that the AI software, Astraware, had deemed them eligible for medical assistance in dying (MAiD). Two years ago, Pixel was diagnosed with refractory depression after many personalized medicine treatments failed, including cutting-edge microbiological-pharmacological and biogenetic approaches that their parents had accumulated over $675,000 in debt to afford. Pixel even had the opportunity to participate in randomized clinical trials, giving them access to the most recently launched molecules on the market. Similarly, several experimental and non-pharmacological interventions, described as “evidence-based,” were attempted at the best private clinics in the country but proved equally ineffective. In vain, Pixel tried all the daily recommendations provided by the Neomed robots, including: 3 hours of walking per day divided into 4 periods, 30 minutes of exposure to a light therapy, 20 minutes of meditation, the most nutritious solution-based diet on the market, 1 daily session of virtual reality masturbation, automated reading of self-help books downloaded directly to their Braintech, and so on.

Only conversations with their neighbor, Lux, had the power to somewhat soothe their distress. As a former occupational therapist, Lux had been laid off at the age of 40 when late neoliberal health care reforms replaced all hospital staff with Neomed robots, universal robots combining all healthcare professions into one, rendering distinct disciplines obsolete. From a young age, Pixel was fascinated by Lux and her unconventional lifestyle habits, particularly the fact that she was the only person in her neighborhood who walked to the grocery store and had chosen not to return to the job market after being laid off. Rumors about Lux’s seemingly useless activities circulated in the neighborhood. Lux was also the only person Pixel knew who had ventured outside the dome for a humanitarian mission, something her professional college vehemently condemned and for which she received retaliation. Most of their time together, Lux enjoyed describing life outside, the differences in vegetation, people, attire, etc. These moments spent with Lux gave Pixel a new relationship to time, a gentle wandering, where they could be carried away by the pleasures of imagination.

Pixel had moved to a new dome last year, a neighborhood owned by the oxygen company CostO2, which supposedly provided the best air quality in the country for those who could afford it. That was how Pixel had to say goodbye to Lux. This separation did not help their condition, but their desire to go outside the dome remained, and it became their final wish before they died. Considering that leaving the dome carried significant risk due to the current pollution, which had reached a concentration of fine particulate matter (PM2.5) of 900 μg/m3, Pixel had been warned multiple times about the dangers of being without 8G connection, high surveillance, or portable oxygen, alone among the homeless and undocumented. But after insisting, Pixel finally received permission from the Astraware Ethics Committee, granting them a 2-hour outing on the morning of their death. The only thing that bothered Pixel was crossing the customs checkpoint, which could take hours due to the thorough identity checks.

For their final day, Pixel had insisted that their father attend in person, even though he had initially planned to join their end-of-life ceremony virtually because of an important conference he was giving. Moreover, the family found comfort in the idea that the company Beyondlife would be able to create a brain organoid from neurons taken from Pixel, so they could continue to play with their siblings via virtual reality. The company even offered to cover the funeral costs, which amounted to $40,000 for the digital version, as well as the shipping of both the body and the avatar. This was still half the cost of exhuming the body and burying it underground, as the cost of a plot of land for a 6-foot person was $80,000. It was also agreed that Pixel’s parents would receive a sum of $20,000 from the Society for Immortality Research (SRI) for the sale of Pixel’s organs, a program through which they had each been able to reach the ages of 237 and 254 years.

Finally outside, Pixel was overwhelmed by a sense of freedom. Their senses gently awakened to the new smells and the humidity of the air. Almost immediately, they felt a slight discomfort while breathing due to the pollution and wondered, with a touch of irony, if being out of breath did not made them feel more alive.

On their way, Pixel crossed paths with two individuals who gave them a warm smile. They were probably surprised to see Pixel, who stood out with their Secondskin suit. This brief encounter prolonged their sense of strangeness, and they realized that they hadn’t been able to look into anyone’s eyes since the arrival of smart lenses, due to the colourful light filter they induced. Pixel was disturbed by how penetrating such a short meeting could be.

Turning the next corner, Pixel discovered a park that Lux had often mentioned as their favorite. It was barely recognizable compared to the descriptions Lux had given, due to the vegetation that had begun to overtake the whole place. Only the tree, standing in the middle of the chaotic landscape, was identifiable with certainty because of the distinctive features of its leaves that Lux had described. A sudden urge to climb it overtook them, which they did impulsively, with an agility that startled them. Once at the top, a magnificent view of the city unfolded before their eyes. From afar, they could see a group of people moving in a circle. Pixel got amused by the idea that they were in fact dancing. With the high level of pollution, the vibrant colors of the setting sun made them dizzy. Again, Pixel couldn’t recall the last time they had observed such a thing as
a sunset.

After several hours of wandering, Pixel realized with horror that their identity bracelet was no longer on their wrist. It had probably slipped off while they were climbing the tree, they thought. By the time they tried to find it, the curfew time had passed. Now undocumented, there was no way they’d be allowed to return immediately to the dome. They would have to wait in the air decompression chamber until they could obtain new identification documents. The date of their death would be postponed. Pixel briefly thought about the frustration this would cause their father when he found out that he had taken time off for nothing. Shortly after, they reconsidered. The simple fact of not knowing exactly what their day would look like tomorrow gave them, once again, a strange sense of freedom, awakening a small spark of hope, as small as the fading light in the sky.

I would like to thank Pier-Luc Turcotte and Lalou, with whom the critical, creative, reflective, and existential exchanges raised by the practice of care allow me to face the challenges related to working within the healthcare institution.