Heads I Win . . .

I have to say that I'm most honoured by all the criticism and misinterpretation that my last post received. I've always said that you can't call a work 'great' unless it's been vilified and at least two or three heresies have sprouted from it. Now the entry wasn't 'great' and the comments and posts weren't 'heresy' (quite), but you get the idea.

 

On Saturday, while taking a lunch break from my cleaning job, I found an interesting fact among the books and magazines that cluttered the waiting room: Doctors/Scientists (I forget which) believe that they will very soon be able to perform head transplants. As in, someone donates their spare head to someone else who needs one. Or something. The general public response to the first successful head transplant, I'm sure, will be the predictable "My word, the marvels of science. What won't they think of next?" Or perhaps "You think they could put Spots head on my mother-in-law?" But what people won't tend to think of is the vexing identity crisis this could create. Up till now it's been fairly simple. John Smith needs a new liver, and Billy White has just died in a car crash (his drivers license indicates that he's willing to be an organ donor). They flip the liver out of Billy, slip it into John, the problem's solved, and everyone's happy (except maybe Billy, depending on his accommodation).

A head, however, is a slightly different thing. Let's imagine that John Smith was extremely careless and sustained a massive head injury, terminally damaging his brain, et cetera et cetera. Old method: he dies. Sad (perhaps) but inevitable. New method: Jimmy Young has just died in a car accident from major internal hemorrhaging, but the paramedics quickly decapitated him and his head has since been kept on ice (or however else they intend to preserve heads). John needs a new head, Jimmy has vacated his, the doctors stick Jimmys head on John, problem's solved, and everyone's happy. Almost. When 'the creature' wakes up, and bothers to ask one of lifes great questions 'Who am I?' (which he certainly would, if not at first then as soon as he's able to notice a few details), any doctor or psychologist in the world would have to pause for a second. Did John need a new head - or did Jimmy need a new body? It would be easy to say "Oh, Jimmy was dead, so we gave the head to John. This is John Smith." Not so fast. John may have been the one who needed the head - but now Jimmys personality, memories, and mental habits are sitting on top of Johns shoulders, while dear Johns personality, et cetera, is now in the ICU green bin. Who died? And who is it in the hospital bed currently recovering, if only the pesky reporters would leave him alone?

This situation is not only a nightmare for insurance companies, it's also a legal, ethical and theological conundrum. Jimmy was an American citizen - John was a Kiwi. John may lose his job, just because he had an operation. Discrimination? Jimmy was dead - is he now alive?

I don't have any answers. But I won't be clapping in glee like the Littlest Elf when they announce the worlds first head transplant. And I'm jolly well not going to put my head up for donation. I'll keep my head to myself, thank you.