Is it possible to measure humanity?

Loyal readers! I have triumphantly returned from my latest bout of global travels-- this time to Paris and Barcelona via London. Needless to say it was incredible and I've got the stamps in my passport to prove how worldly I am now.

The Eiffel Tower in Paris on a gorgeous, but
 rather toasty summer day

Though it seems like forever ago at this point, I spent my last morning in Paris in what is now certainly one of my favorite museums in the world: the Musée des Arts et Métiers. I got to see Foucault's pendulum that proved the rotation of the earth; I spent some time looking at ways of keeping time that never caught on; I witnessed the vogue of static electricity; and I got spooked by some creepy dolls.

Some of the automata on display at the
Musée des Arts et Métiers

These automata were popular in the 19th century for performing tasks that were once thought to be uniquely human. In this YouTube clip, one automaton is writing poetry. In this clip, another automaton is playing the piano, mimicking the motions of a pianist in the thralls of a beautiful sonata. In this final clip, an automaton is writing in ornate script. I've already been confronted with the moral conundrum of what it means to be human in this class, but it was never so starkly laid out before than in the automata and the museum's visiting art exhibit.


Enki Bilal was the artist. I've never really been into cartoons or modern art in general, but I'd also never been in an exhibit that so thoroughly engaged all five of my senses. It was entitled Mécanhumanimal and depicted semi-terrifying man-machine hybrids and a dystopian world wholly devoid of any warm, fuzzy emotion I'm familiar with. I was actually a little terrified walking through the dark hallways and hearing mechanical breathing not unlike Darth Vader and looking in a mirror to not see my reflection but a digital skull.

Mécanhumanimal by Enki Bilal

Like I said, I have no artistic expertise of which to speak so my reading of Bilal's work could be COMPLETELY wrong, but I'm willing to embarrass myself here. The exhibit felt like the struggle between two definitions of humanity: the mechanization and brutal futility of emotion versus passion and brutally raw emotion. I was really struck by one drawing entitled Romeo and Juliet. Echoing the Shakespearean drama, a bloodstained lover was holding a bloodstained gun to his temple, holding his dead beloved. Over his shoulder lurked clean-cut henchmen seemingly awaiting the couple's demise.

I could not describe the look of utter surrender and passion in the figure's eyes and credit to Bilal for being able to convey those emotions so vividly. Clearly in this instance it was those emotions that defined his humanity, the very reason for his existence. But what of the mechanized temptresses I saw in the other drawings? Was it the passion they evoked that made them human or was it an abdomen of flesh and blood?

Were these figures human at all? Are machines then capable of these same human emotions? And then there's the issue degrees of humanity. Does the depth of the emotion I feel determine how human I am? Or is it how successfully I can complete certain tasks? Or how quickly I learn and forget?

My brother, a soon-to-be-lawyer, and I often argue over which one of us will provide the world with the more valuable service? I think that as a doctor, I'll be the one doing more good (but I expect his net worth might prove me wrong someday). I'm not sure I've ever been able to articulate this clearly enough to him, but I think I'll be providing the more valuable service because I will be the one required to feel emotion. In practicing and perfecting the craft of medicine, I will necessarily have to empathize with patients and allay their fears. As a lawyer, I'm not sure my brother will necessarily need to feel the pain of his clients so thoroughly. Surely, the experience of feeling this emotion contributes more to the human race than protecting monetary assets.

In any sense, I hardly expect to define humanity or chart out a scale of it any time soon. But at least I know my father will always agree with me, that medicine is more valuable than legal training, even if it is only to keep peace in the house.