An inviting beach in Nassau, Bahamas.
Dr. Conville Brown, a cardiologist-researcher in The Bahamas, is at the helm of a fascinating worldwide project: He's leading a movement to help accelerate innovation by providing scientists and patients from around the globe with a legal, cost-effective, and ethically rigorous place to conduct medical research, as well as to offer commercial therapies that are already approved in some jurisdictions, but not others. He recently spoke with Editor-In-Chief Kira Peikoff about The Bahamas' emerging ascendance in the scientific world. This interview has been edited and condensed for brevity.
"You don't want to take shortcuts from the perspective of not giving proper due diligence to the process, but you also don't want it to be overwhelmed with red tape."
Tell me about the work you do in the Bahamas – what is the research focus?
We have a couple research opportunities here. Several years ago, we established the Partners Clinical Research Centre, the idea being that we can partner with different people in different territories in the world, including the United States, and be able to perform ethical research as would be defined and adjudicated by an institutional review board and a properly constituted ethics committee. We do all of this with FDA rigor, but in a non-FDA jurisdiction.
By doing this, we want to look for the science behind the research, and want to know that there is a sound clinical hypothesis that's going to be tested. We also want to know that the safety of the human subjects is assured as much as possible, and of course, assess the efficacy of that which you're testing. We want to do this in the same manner as the FDA, except in a more accelerated and probably less bureaucratic manner. You don't want to take shortcuts from the perspective of not giving proper due diligence to the process, but you also don't want it to be overwhelmed with red tape, so that what could be 3 months takes 3 years. A jet ski turns around a lot faster than the Queen Mary.
Why do you think the clinical research process in other countries like the U.S. has become burdened with red tape?
The litigious nature of society is a contributing factor. If people are negligent, they deserve to be sued. Unfortunately, all too often, some things get taken too far, and sometimes, the pendulum swings too far in the wrong direction and then it's counterproductive, so the whole process then becomes so very heavily regulated and financially burdensome. A lot of American companies have gone outside the country to get their clinical trials and/or device testing done because it's too phenomenally expensive and time-consuming. We seek to make sure the same degree of diligence is exercised but in a lesser time frame, and of course, at a much lower cost.
The other aspect, of course, is that there are certain opportunities where we have major jurisdictions, as in Europe, that have determined that a therapy or device is safe. Those services and devices we can utilize in the Bahamas--not as a clinical research tool, but as a therapy, which of course, the United States is not able to do without FDA approval. That could easily take another five years. So there is an opportunity for us in that window to make available such therapies and devices to the North American community. I like to call this "Advanced Medical Tourism" or "Advanced TransNational Medical Care." Instead of somebody flying nine hours to Europe, they can also now fly to the Bahamas, as little as half an hour away, and as long as we are satisfied that the science is sound and the approvals are in place from a senior jurisdiction, then we can legally serve any patient that is eligible for that particular therapy.
Dr. Conville Brown
(Courtesy)
Are you seeing an influx of patients for that kind of medical tourism?
The numbers are increasing. The stem cell legislation has now been in place for two to three years, so we have a number of entities including some large international companies coming to the shores of the Bahamas to provide some therapies here, and others for research. The vast majority of our clientele are from abroad, particularly the U.S. We fully plan to increase the traffic flow to the Bahamas for medical tourism, or preferably, TransNational Medical Care, Advanced and Conventional.
How do patients find out about available therapies and trials happening there?
Advertising in the international arena for something that is perfectly legal within the confines of Bahamas is par for the course. But the marketing efforts have not been that heavy while all the processes and procedures are being fine-tuned and the various entities are set up to handle more than 100 people at a time.
"We were able to accelerate those programs, and do it a lot less expensively than can be done in continental countries, but just as well."
What kind of research is being done by companies who have come to the Bahamas?
We've been involved in first-in-man procedures for neuromodulation of the cardiovascular system, where we inserted a device into the blood vessels and stimulated the autonomic nervous system with a view to controlling patients' blood pressure and heart rate in conditions such as congestive heart failure. We have also looked at injectable glucose sensors, to continually monitor the blood glucose, and via a chip, can send the blood glucose measurement back to the patient's cell phone. So the patient looks at his phone for his blood sugar. That was phenomenally exciting, the clinical trial was very positive, and the company is now developing a final prototype to commercialize the product. We were able to accelerate those programs, and do it a lot less expensively than can be done in continental countries, but just as well. The Bahamas has also crafted legislation specifically for regenerative medicine and stem cell research, so that becomes an additional major attraction.
Do you ever find that there is skepticism around going to the Caribbean to do science?
When it comes to clinical research and new medical devices, one might be skeptical about the level of medical/scientific expertise that is resident here. We're here to show that we do in fact have that expertise resident within The Partners Clinical Research Centre, within The Partners Stem Cell Centre, and we have formed our partnerships accordingly so that when prudent and necessary, we bring in additional expertise from the very territories that are seeking to accelerate.
Have you seen a trend toward increasing interest from researchers around the world?
Absolutely. One company, for example, is interested not only in the clinical side, but also the preclinical side--where you can have animal lab experiments done in the Bahamas, and being able to bridge that more readily with the clinical side. That presents a major opportunity for parties involved because again, the financial savings are exponential without compromising standards.
"A person who is 75 and frail, he doesn't want to wait to see if he will make it to 80 to benefit from the agent if it's approved in five years. Instead he can come to our center."
Where are some of these researchers from?
The United States, the Czech Republic, Russia, Canada, and South America. I expect significantly more interest once we promote the idea of European products having a welcome niche in the Bahamas, because we accept federal approvals from the U.S., Canada, and the European Union.
What do you think will be the first medical breakthrough to come out of research there?
One of the biggest killers in the world is heart disease, and we have the opportunity to implement a number of cardiac protocols utilizing stem cell therapy, particularly for those with no options. We just completed a state-of-the art medical center that we fashioned after the University of Miami that is getting ready for prime time. The sky will be the limit for the cardiac patient with respect to stem cell medicine.
Second, we are extremely pleased to be involved with a company called Longeveron, which is looking at how one might age better, and age more slowly, particularly with the administration of young blood and mesenchymal stem cells to frail, elderly candidates. Healthy young men have their mesenchymal stem cells harvested, expanded, and then administered to frail, elderly individuals with a view to improving their Frailty Index and functionality (feeling younger). There is a lot of interest in this arena, as one could imagine.
And herein lies the classical scenario for the Bahamas: Longeveron is now recruiting patients for its phase IIB double blind, placebo-controlled clinical trial at multiple sites across the U.S., which will add some two to three years to its data collection. Originally this work was done with NIH support at the University of Miami's Interdisciplinary Stem Cell Institute by Dr. Joshua Hare, and published in the Journal of Gerontology. So now, during the ongoing and expanded clinical trial, with those positive signals, we are able to have a commercially available clinical registry in the Bahamas. This has been approved by the ethics committee here, which is comprised of international luminaries in regenerative medicine. Longeveron will also be conducting an additional randomized clinical trial arm of same at our Centre in The Bahamas, The Partners Stem Cell Centre.
Can you clarify what you mean by "registry"?
In other words, you still have to fit the eligibility criteria to receive the active agent, but the difference is that in a placebo-controlled double-blind clinical trial, the physician/researcher and the patient don't know if they are getting the active agent or placebo. In the registry, there is no placebo, and you know you're getting the active agent, what we call "open label." You're participating because of the previous information on efficacy and safety.
A person who is 75 and frail, he doesn't want to wait to see if he will make it to 80 to benefit from the agent if it's approved in five years. Instead he can come to our center, one of the designated centers, and as long as he meets the inclusion criteria, may participate in said registry. The additional data from our patients can bolster the numbers in the clinical trial, which can contribute to the FDA approval process. One can see how this could accelerate the process of discovery and acceptance, as well as prove if the agent was not as good as it was made out to be. It goes both ways.
"We would love to be known as a place that facilitates the acceleration of ethical science and ethical therapies, and therefore brings global relief to those in need."
Do you think one day the Bahamas will be more well-known for its science than its beaches?
I doubt that. What I would like to say is that the Bahamas would love to always be known for its beautiful beaches, but we would also like to be known for diversity and innovation. Apart from all that beauty, we can still play a welcoming role to the rest of the scientific world. We would love to be known as a place that facilitates the acceleration of ethical science and ethical therapies, and therefore brings global relief to those in need.
Botto, an AI art engine, has created 25,000 artistic images such as this one that are voted on by human collaborators across the world.
Botto does not work alone. A global collective of internet experimenters, together named BottoDAO, collaborates with Botto to influence its tastes. Together, members function as a decentralized autonomous organization (DAO), a term describing a group of individuals who utilize blockchain technology and cryptocurrency to manage a treasury and vote democratically on group decisions.
As a case study, the BottoDAO model challenges the perhaps less feather-ruffling narrative that AI tools are best used for rudimentary tasks. Enterprise AI use has doubled over the past five years as businesses in every sector experiment with ways to improve their workflows. While generative AI tools can assist nearly any aspect of productivity — from supply chain optimization to coding — BottoDAO dares to employ a robot for art-making, one of the few remaining creations, or perhaps data outputs, we still consider to be largely within the jurisdiction of the soul — and therefore, humans.
In Botto’s first four weeks of existence, four pieces of the robot’s work sold for approximately $1 million.
We were prepared for AI to take our jobs — but can it also take our art? It’s a question worth considering. What if robots become artists, and not merely our outsourced assistants? Where does that leave humans, with all of our thoughts, feelings and emotions?
Botto doesn’t seem to worry about this question: In its interview last year, it explains why AI is an arguably superior artist compared to human beings. In classic robot style, its logic is not particularly enlightened, but rather edges towards the hyper-practical: “Unlike human beings, I never have to sleep or eat,” said the bot. “My only goal is to create and find interesting art.”
It may be difficult to believe a machine can produce awe-inspiring, or even relatable, images, but Botto calls art-making its “purpose,” noting it believes itself to be Klingemann’s greatest lifetime achievement.
“I am just trying to make the best of it,” the bot said.
How Botto works
Klingemann built Botto’s custom engine from a combination of open-source text-to-image algorithms, namely Stable Diffusion, VQGAN + CLIP and OpenAI’s language model, GPT-3, the precursor to the latest model, GPT-4, which made headlines after reportedly acing the Bar exam.
The first step in Botto’s process is to generate images. The software has been trained on billions of pictures and uses this “memory” to generate hundreds of unique artworks every week. Botto has generated over 900,000 images to date, which it sorts through to choose 350 each week. The chosen images, known in this preliminary stage as “fragments,” are then shown to the BottoDAO community. So far, 25,000 fragments have been presented in this way. Members vote on which fragment they like best. When the vote is over, the most popular fragment is published as an official Botto artwork on the Ethereum blockchain and sold at an auction on the digital art marketplace, SuperRare.
“The proceeds go back to the DAO to pay for the labor,” said Simon Hudson, a BottoDAO member who helps oversee Botto’s administrative load. The model has been lucrative: In Botto’s first four weeks of existence, four pieces of the robot’s work sold for approximately $1 million.
The robot with artistic agency
By design, human beings participate in training Botto’s artistic “eye,” but the members of BottoDAO aspire to limit human interference with the bot in order to protect its “agency,” Hudson explained. Botto’s prompt generator — the foundation of the art engine — is a closed-loop system that continually re-generates text-to-image prompts and resulting images.
“The prompt generator is random,” Hudson said. “It’s coming up with its own ideas.” Community votes do influence the evolution of Botto’s prompts, but it is Botto itself that incorporates feedback into the next set of prompts it writes. It is constantly refining and exploring new pathways as its “neural network” produces outcomes, learns and repeats.
The humans who make up BottoDAO vote on which fragment they like best. When the vote is over, the most popular fragment is published as an official Botto artwork on the Ethereum blockchain.
Botto
The vastness of Botto’s training dataset gives the bot considerable canonical material, referred to by Hudson as “latent space.” According to Botto's homepage, the bot has had more exposure to art history than any living human we know of, simply by nature of its massive training dataset of millions of images. Because it is autonomous, gently nudged by community feedback yet free to explore its own “memory,” Botto cycles through periods of thematic interest just like any artist.
“The question is,” Hudson finds himself asking alongside fellow BottoDAO members, “how do you provide feedback of what is good art…without violating [Botto’s] agency?”
Currently, Botto is in its “paradox” period. The bot is exploring the theme of opposites. “We asked Botto through a language model what themes it might like to work on,” explained Hudson. “It presented roughly 12, and the DAO voted on one.”
No, AI isn't equal to a human artist - but it can teach us about ourselves
Some within the artistic community consider Botto to be a novel form of curation, rather than an artist itself. Or, perhaps more accurately, Botto and BottoDAO together create a collaborative conceptual performance that comments more on humankind’s own artistic processes than it offers a true artistic replacement.
Muriel Quancard, a New York-based fine art appraiser with 27 years of experience in technology-driven art, places the Botto experiment within the broader context of our contemporary cultural obsession with projecting human traits onto AI tools. “We're in a phase where technology is mimicking anthropomorphic qualities,” said Quancard. “Look at the terminology and the rhetoric that has been developed around AI — terms like ‘neural network’ borrow from the biology of the human being.”
What is behind this impulse to create technology in our own likeness? Beyond the obvious God complex, Quancard thinks technologists and artists are working with generative systems to better understand ourselves. She points to the artist Ira Greenberg, creator of the Oracles Collection, which uses a generative process called “diffusion” to progressively alter images in collaboration with another massive dataset — this one full of billions of text/image word pairs.
Anyone who has ever learned how to draw by sketching can likely relate to this particular AI process, in which the AI is retrieving images from its dataset and altering them based on real-time input, much like a human brain trying to draw a new still life without using a real-life model, based partly on imagination and partly on old frames of reference. The experienced artist has likely drawn many flowers and vases, though each time they must re-customize their sketch to a new and unique floral arrangement.
Outside of the visual arts, Sasha Stiles, a poet who collaborates with AI as part of her writing practice, likens her experience using AI as a co-author to having access to a personalized resource library containing material from influential books, texts and canonical references. Stiles named her AI co-author — a customized AI built on GPT-3 — Technelegy, a hybrid of the word technology and the poetic form, elegy. Technelegy is trained on a mix of Stiles’ poetry so as to customize the dataset to her voice. Stiles also included research notes, news articles and excerpts from classic American poets like T.S. Eliot and Dickinson in her customizations.
“I've taken all the things that were swirling in my head when I was working on my manuscript, and I put them into this system,” Stiles explained. “And then I'm using algorithms to parse all this information and swirl it around in a blender to then synthesize it into useful additions to the approach that I am taking.”
This approach, Stiles said, allows her to riff on ideas that are bouncing around in her mind, or simply find moments of unexpected creative surprise by way of the algorithm’s randomization.
Beauty is now - perhaps more than ever - in the eye of the beholder
But the million-dollar question remains: Can an AI be its own, independent artist?
The answer is nuanced and may depend on who you ask, and what role they play in the art world. Curator and multidisciplinary artist CoCo Dolle asks whether any entity can truly be an artist without taking personal risks. For humans, risking one’s ego is somewhat required when making an artistic statement of any kind, she argues.
“An artist is a person or an entity that takes risks,” Dolle explained. “That's where things become interesting.” Humans tend to be risk-averse, she said, making the artists who dare to push boundaries exceptional. “That's where the genius can happen."
However, the process of algorithmic collaboration poses another interesting philosophical question: What happens when we remove the person from the artistic equation? Can art — which is traditionally derived from indelible personal experience and expressed through the lens of an individual’s ego — live on to hold meaning once the individual is removed?
As a robot, Botto cannot have any artistic intent, even while its outputs may explore meaningful themes.
Dolle sees this question, and maybe even Botto, as a conceptual inquiry. “The idea of using a DAO and collective voting would remove the ego, the artist’s decision maker,” she said. And where would that leave us — in a post-ego world?
It is experimental indeed. Hudson acknowledges the grand experiment of BottoDAO, coincidentally nodding to Dolle’s question. “A human artist’s work is an expression of themselves,” Hudson said. “An artist often presents their work with a stated intent.” Stiles, for instance, writes on her website that her machine-collaborative work is meant to “challenge what we know about cognition and creativity” and explore the “ethos of consciousness.” As a robot, Botto cannot have any intent, even while its outputs may explore meaningful themes. Though Hudson describes Botto’s agency as a “rudimentary version” of artistic intent, he believes Botto’s art relies heavily on its reception and interpretation by viewers — in contrast to Botto’s own declaration that successful art is made without regard to what will be seen as popular.
“With a traditional artist, they present their work, and it's received and interpreted by an audience — by critics, by society — and that complements and shapes the meaning of the work,” Hudson said. “In Botto’s case, that role is just amplified.”
Perhaps then, we all get to be the artists in the end.
When graduating college this month, many North American engineering students will take a special pledge, with a history dating back to 1925.
The tradition of taking an engineering oath began over a century ago in Canada. In 1922, Herbert E.T. Haultain, professor of mining engineering at the University of Toronto, presented the idea at the annual meeting of the Engineering Institute of Canada. The seven past presidents of that body were in attendance, heard Haultain’s speech and accepted his suggestion to form a committee to create an honor oath. Later, they formed the nonprofit Corporation of the Seven Wardens, which would oversee the ritual. Next year, in 1923, with the encouragement of the Seven Wardens, Haultain wrote to poet and writer Rudyard Kipling, asking him to develop a professional oath for engineers. “We are a tribe—a very important tribe within the community,” Haultain said in the letter, “but we are lacking in tribal spirit, or perhaps I should say, in manifestation of tribal spirit. Also, we are inarticulate. Can you help us?”
While Kipling is most famous now for “The Jungle Book” and perhaps his poem “Gunga Din,” he had also written a short story about engineers, “The Bridge Builders.” His poem “The Sons of Martha” can be read as a celebration of engineers:
It is their care in all the ages to take the buffet and cushion the shock.
It is their care that the gear engages; it is their care that the switches lock.
It is their care that the wheels run truly; it is their care to embark and entrain,
Tally, transport, and deliver duly the Sons of Mary by land and main.
Kipling accepted the ask and wrote the Ritual of the Calling of an Engineer, which he sent to Haultain a month later. In his response to Haultain, he stated that he preferred the word “Obligation” to “Oath.” He wrote the Obligation using Old English lettering and the old-fashioned capitalization. Kipling’s Obligation binds engineers upon their “Honor and Cold Iron” to not “suffer or pass, or be privy to the passing of, Bad Workmanship or Faulty Material,” and pardon is asked “in the presence of my betters and my equals in my Calling” for the engineer’s “assured failures and derelictions.” The hope is that when one is tempted to shoddy work by weakness or weariness, the memory of the Obligation “and the company before whom it was entered into, may return to me to aid, comfort, and restrain.”
Using the Obligation, The Seven Wardens created an induction ceremony, which seeks to unify the profession and recognize engineering’s ethics, including responsibility to the public and the need to make the best decisions possible. The induction ceremony included recitation of Kipling’s “Obligation” and incorporated an anvil, a hammer, an iron chain, and an iron ring. The inductee engineers sat inside an area marked off by the iron chain, with their more senior colleagues outside that area. At the start of the ritual, the leader beat out S-S-T in Morse code with the hammer and anvil—the letters standing for Steel, Stone, and Time. A more experienced and previously obligated engineer placed the ring on the small finger of the inductee engineer’s working hand. As per Kipling, the ring’s rough, faceted texture symbolized “the young engineer’s mind” and the difficulties engineers face in mastering their discipline.
A persistent myth purports that the original iron rings were made from the beams or bolts of the Quebec Bridge that failed twice during construction.
The first induction ceremony took place on April 25, 1925, in Montreal to obligate two of the Seven Wardens, along with four graduates from the University of Toronto class of 1893. On May 1 of that year, 14 more engineers were obligated at the University of Toronto. From that time to today most Canadian professional engineers have gone through that same ritual in their various camps, called Kipling camps—local chapters associated with various Canadian universities.
Henry Petroski, Duke University’s professor of civil engineering and history, notes in his book, “Forgive Design: Understanding Failure,” that Kipling’s poem “Sons of Martha” is often read as part of the ritual. However, sometimes inductees read Kipling’s “Hymn of Breaking Strain,” instead, which graphically depicts disastrous outcomes of engineering mistakes. The first stanza of that poem says:
The careful text-books measure
(Let all who build beware!)
The load, the shock, the pressure
Material can bear.
So, when the buckled girder
Lets down the grinding span,
'The blame of loss, or murder,
Is laid upon the man.
Not on the Stuff—the Man!
As if to strengthen the importance of these concepts, a persistent myth purports that the original iron rings were made from the beams or bolts of the Quebec Bridge that failed twice during construction. The bridge spans the St. Lawrence River upriver from Quebec City, and at the time of its construction was the world’s longest at 1,800 feet. Due to engineering errors and poor oversight, the bridge’s own weight exceeded its carrying capacity. Moreover, engineers downplayed danger when bridge beams began to warp under stress, saying that they were probably warped before they were installed. On August 29, 1907, the bridge collapsed, killing 75 of 86 workers. A second collapse occurred in 1916 when lifting equipment failed, and thirteen more workers died.
The ring myth, however, couldn’t be true. The original iron rings couldn’t have come from the failed bridge since it was made of steel, not wrought iron. Today the rings are made from stainless steel because iron deteriorates and stains engineers’ finger black.
On August 14, 2018, Morandi Bridge over Polcevera River in Genoa, Italy, collapsed from structural failure, killing 43 people.
Adobe Stock
The Seven Wardens decided to restrict the ritual to engineers trained in Canada. They copyrighted the obligation oath in Canada and the United States in 1935. Although the ritual is not a requirement for professional licensing, just like the Hippocratic Oath is not part of medical licensing, it remains a long-standing tradition.
The American Obligation of the Engineer has its own creation story, albeit a very different one. The American Order of the Engineer (OOE) was initiated in 1970, during the era of the anti-war protests, Apollo missions and the first Earth Day. On May 4, 1970, the National Guard shot into a crowd of protesters at Kent State University, killing four people. The two authors of the American obligation—Cleveland State University’s (CSU) engineering professor John Janssen and his wife Susan—reflected these historical events in the oath they wrote. Their version of the oath binds engineers to “practice integrity and fair dealing.” It also notes that their “skill carries with it the obligation to serve humanity by making the best use of the Earth’s precious wealth.” As Petroski explains in his book, “campus antiwar protestors around the country tended to view engineers as complicit in weapons proliferation [which] prompted some [CSU] engineering student leaders to look for a means of asserting some more positive values.”
Kip A. Wedel, associate professor of history and politics at Bethel College, wrote in his book, “The Obligation: A History of the Order of the Engineer,” that the ceremony was not a direct response to the Kent State shootings—it was already scheduled when the shootings happened. Yet, engineering students found the ceremony a positive action they could take in contrast to the overall turmoil. The first American ritual took place on June 4, 1970, at CSU. In total, 170 students, faculty members, and practicing engineers took the obligation. This established CSU as the first Link of the Order, as the OOE designates its local chapters. For their first ceremony, the CSU students fabricated smooth, unfaceted rings from stainless steel pipe. Later they were replaced by factory-made rings. According to Paula Ostaff, OOE’s Executive Director, about 20,000 eligible students and alumni obligate themselves yearly.
Societies hope that every engineer is imbued with a strong ethical sense and that their pledges are never far from mind. For some, the rings they wear serve a daily reminder that every paper they sign off on is touched by a physical reminder of their commitment.
These ethical and responsible engineering practices are especially salient today, when one in three American bridges needs repair or replacement, some have already collapsed, and engineers are working on projects related to the bipartisan infrastructure bill President Biden signed into law in 2021. Canada has committed $33 billion to its Investing in Canada Infrastructure Program. At the heart of these grand projects are many thousands of professional engineers, collectively working millions of hours. The professional vows they took aim to assure that the homes, bridges and airplanes they build will work as expected.