by Louise Hatherall
This blog post dissects the 2017 film The Ghost In The Shell and discusses two themes relevant to research the film throws up: the commercialization of research and consent. Please note: there are spoilers for the film contained within the piece.
Science Fiction films may not feel like the most comfortable place to explore issues of research and law, but the recent remake of The Ghost In The Shell raises a myriad of issues whilst probing the boundaries of what it means to be human. The film focuses on a future where the line between human and robot is blurred, with robotic enhancements to one’s body being common place (including reference to an “enhanced liver” to ensure last call never really came). This human/robot division is almost completely obliterated in one case: Mira (played by Scarlett Johansson) has her brain encased in a wholly robotic anthropomorphic shell following an alleged accident in which she nearly died. She is both human and robot, whilst simultaneously being neither. The film follows Mira as she comes to terms with this state of being whilst trying to track down cyber terrorist Kuze. The film is a remake of an anime feature of the same name and has come under substantial criticism due to its whitewashing of Japanese characters. This blog, however, focuses on the content of the film, and two issues it raises: the commercialization of research, and consent.
The Commercialization of Research
In The Ghost In The Shell Mira is ‘built’ by scientist Dr Outlét from funding and resources provided by the commercial outfit Hanka. Hanka’s main function appears to be the creation of weapons to combat cyber terrorism, and Mira is their current ultra-weapon. A being who is sentient, empathetic and can react on instinct cased in a near indestructible robo-body. Dr Outlét’s work is consistently watched and commented on by Cutter, Hanka’s CEO. Throughout the film there is an ongoing tension between Dr Outlét and Cutter over the handling and treatment of the human/cyborg hybrids and who owns them. During the third act of the film Dr Outlét is shot for not abiding the instructions handed down by Cutter. He argues that it is his company and his money therefore the research is owned by him, giving her no power over how it is handled or disseminated.
This is obviously an extreme example of the relationship between scientific research & commercialization. But it raises lots of questions that modern researchers, of all disciplines, have to grapple with. Who owns the Intellectual Property of the work? What happens if the outcome of the research is unfavourable to those who have funded it? How much should researchers push back on those providing the funding if the research direction goes against their ethics or principles? The relationship between funders and researchers, whilst often healthy, can be a difficult line to tread and can result in problematic research outcomes, as demonstrated by Ben Goldacre’s work on the commercialization of pharmaceutical research.
Consent
“I am Major and I give my consent.” – Mira
“We never needed to ask for your consent” – Dr Outlét
The two quotes above (although not concurrent in the film) demonstrate the paradox of consent in this film. Mira gives her consent to various scientists for accessing the software in her brain – her memories, her thoughts along with what she sees. Consent & law are often frequent partners. Consent to terms and conditions, consent to medical procedures, consent to being quoted or photographed, consent to sex. But law sets the boundaries of who can consent. You cannot legally consent to sex if you are under the age of 16 in the UK. You are unable to provide valid consent if you have been coerced or are mentally incapable of doing so. In the film Mira’s consent is invalid because she is not seen as human. Whilst touched on the film does not truly explore where the line is drawn between robot and human. You could ask if the man with the enhanced robotic liver is robot and therefore considered incapable of giving consent. This may seem an unnecessary question. The film is based in a far off future, so there is plenty of time to debate what makes something human and or what characteristics one must have to be capable of giving consent. But these debates are already happening. This can range from whether dealing with catastrophic injuries compromises your ability to give or withhold consent as well as questions of what we define as “human” when conducting research on chimera stem cells.
A linked issue, mentioned above, is who owns such genetic and biotechnological inventions? My work looks genetic inventions and how they are owned via patents. Some NGOs, such as the ACLU, would argue that no one can own genetic materials and this problem would be exacerbated in the world envisaged by The Ghost In The Shell. Arguably Mira’s brain would remain owned by her but the technology for her body – her software and materials – would be owned by Hanka. Cutter gives the impression that he believes he owns all of Mira, mind and body. This position is incredibly uncomfortable given how close it appears to slavery (and thus the commodification of her human side). But, if she is conceptualized as pure machinery we may be more comfortable with the commodification of her robot self, even if she were able to think, act and feel as if she were human. Of course, what the film does not explore is that Mira – rescued near-death and following an accident – presumably did not consent to the procedure in which her brain is placed “into the shell”.
Consent in the film & the analogy to internet privacy has been made elsewhere (and work done by Chunxiao Zhang at Bristol explores issues of Data Protection and Internet privacy), but certain acts in the film could be construed as medical procedures. Consent in this context is given even where Mira knows little about what procedure she is about to undergo. In one scene she is connected via a computer to another cyborg and goes into a “deep dive”, accessing their memories, without knowing what to expect from the process. In another she gives consent for certain “glitches” in her software to be deleted without knowing what they are or why they are caused. Given the prevalence and importance of consent in modern legal systems you could be forgiven for finding this situation odd; she gave consent with very little information about what she was agreeing to. But this is not as rare as might be hoped. Ben Goldacre’s work (above) shows that the consent model is flawed because doctors do not always have the correct information to give to patients when considering what medicines to prescribe. Work on consent is also being done by Bristol’s own Louise Austin where she explores the role of paternalism and autonomy in consent to medical treatments. Mira trusts Dr Outlét and so follows her guidance almost without question. This may lead Dr Outlét to make calls about Mira without giving the full information because, as the Doctor, she knows best. Giving too much technical information about software and data may scare her, or discourage her from taking actions which are vital to her wellbeing. But does this mean Mira should be prevented from knowing all the information before going forth with such procedures?
These are not easy questions to answer and the purpose of this blog is not to answer them but rather to bring them to the fore for discussion. Some of the source material requires some presumptions – patent law is not usually a rich area for film makers! But, as some science fiction worlds become reality, such movies may provide an interesting base to discuss such issues before the problems presented to the characters become a reality.
