The Silent Patent: Google’s Camera Contact Lens

When I recently came across an article about advancements in contact lens technology, I flashed back to the British television anthology series, Black Mirror, created by Charlie Brooker, in where each installment explores the dark side of life and technology. In one episode, The Entire History of You, set in the near future, people have the ability to access each aspect of their memory through an implant that records everything they do, see and hear.

The protagonist, played by Toby Kebbell, dwells on what could be considered seemingly innocent exchanges between his wife and what turns out to be her ex-boyfriend, Jonas, played by Tom Cullen. Kebbell’s character increasingly fixates on Jonas who at one point speaks rather frankly about masturbating to re-dos—images from past memories that can be recalled with the simple touch of a button—of sex from his earlier relationships.

As the episode continues to unfold, Kebbell’s character becomes increasingly transfixed and obsessed on each interaction he has just had or witnessed with Jonas. Awake throughout the night, he replays these interactions, zooming in and out on the images, analyzing every infinitesimal detail until finally he comes to find a devastating truth. One that leaves him upended and in a state of maddening anguish. He is then stuck reliving these haunted memories over and over in excruciating detail. 

In 2014, when some people still believed Google Glass was just suffering from a simple branding issue, Google, being Google, was continuing to explore other realms of computer-human integration. A contact lens with a camera Google declared could be a ‘bionic eye’ that would help the blind and visually impaired. These new smart contact lenses with tiny CMOS camera sensor just below the pupil, would allow the camera to naturally follow a person’s gaze and help with facial recognition. *

In September of 2015, Google declared that smart contact lens are in development. They surreptitiously filed a patent describing them as an “eye-mountable device.” The company states that this technology will collect health data through the eye’s liquid—monitoring glucose levels and symptoms for glaucoma, for example. But language in the patent also states use for a “video chat session” with another computing device and a video chat window.**

So while this type of innovation could represent a revolution in disease management, the ability to record something or someone without ever having to bring out a device opens a Pandora’s box of personal privacy concerns. And in an era of mass data collection, is the next wave of retrieving and sharing information going to make bulk collection personal? Imagine an easy-to-use tool that records each aspect of a person’s life without him or her ever having to actually activate the device.

The ease of such products makes their appeal obvious, but such easy to turn on technological advancements only mean that it’s that much harder to turn off. Ultimately, we may look back and see that one of human nature’s greatest kindnesses was our ability to forget.

Jesse C Beck

* “Google invents smart contact lens with built-in camera: Superhuman Terminator-like vision here we come,” by Sebastian Anthony. April 15, 2014. Extreme Tech. http://www.extremetech.com/extreme/180571-google-invents-smart-contact-lens-with-built-in-camera-superhuman-terminator-like-vision-here-we-come

** “Google Smart Contact Lens To Hit The Market Soon?” by Quinten Plummer, Tech Times. June 28, 2015. http://www.techtimes.com/articles/63868/20150628/google-smart-contact-lens-to-hit-the-market-soon.htm

Patent Application: http://appft.uspto.gov/netacgi/nph-Parser?Sect1=PTO2&Sect2=HITOFF&u=%2Fnetahtml%2FPTO%2Fsearch-adv.html&r=65&f=G&l=50&d=PG01&s1=Google.AS.&p=2&OS=AN/Google&RS=AN/Google

When Does Nothing, Mean Something?

Every morning has its sacrosanct rituals. A.M. sustenance delivered through a jaded cigarette or an advantageous bagel. A subway commute whose starts and stops follow the same melodic rhythm day after day. And of course, the sacramental procedure that is your coffee order.

The boastful declaration of how one ‘takes it’ seems almost symbolic of some defining archetype. No milk, no sugar: you pride yourself in your ability to cut through the clutter. No milk, two sugars: you’re steadfast, but temperate. Coffee with your milk? Unapologetic.

Over time and with steadfast procedure, you become proud of the relationship you create with your barista. You have a bit of shaudenfrueder when you see Instagram’s deluge of frosty caffeinated containers inscribed with Shellys spelt with a C and an I; Toms that look more like an Ashley; Sarah’s who have to grab their double pump, mocha non-fat, no-skim cappuccinos under the name, Burt.

There is a sense of local superiority in one’s ability to be recognized and remembered by an employee. Especially for something as significant as a coffee order.

It was a particularly blustery morning when I stepped into the café of 6th Avenue and saw the familiar face of my personal coffee crafter, my energy giver, my life saver: Glenn.

Typically, when I would ask, “How’s it going, Glenn?” his response would consist of “Oh, you know. Another day, another day.” Or “Just gett’n by. Just gett’n by.” Or the occasional, “Another morning, here we are.”  These redundant statements were ones I would typically, if not systematically, dismiss without any thought.

And I might have continued on this way except for the day when everything changed. “How’s it going, Glenn?” “Good,” he responds. Good? In how many years had he never actually responded to my question with a proper answer? But now, seemingly out of nowhere, he decided to give me an appropriate reply? Had he been paying as little attention to what I was asking as I did to what he was saying? And if so, why was I hurt by that?

Like dating someone who you want to break it off with, but when you realize he had the same thing in mind you get angry and frustrated that he wouldn’t at least try to make it work.

That’s when I realized that these seemingly meaningless humdrum statements of recurrent facts meant more than just a simple glitch in the grammatical matrix. Until now, Glenn’s sayings held as much intellectual perplexity as, “A chair, is a chair.” But that morning I finally grasped that our routine exchange held as much symbolic importance as any other part my morning ritual. And that’s when it hit me that all of my morning rituals were basically meaningless. But put together, they represented my eccentricities and my habits and I held that as something very personal that needed to be protected. We don’t realize the comfort in our daily systems until they are changed. And once they are, we seek to understand why we never held them sacred to begin with.

A Show In The Dark

One of my favorite shows was one that was hard to see.  Rhye, a band that likes to keep itself in an opaque shroud of mystery, recently showed up to a sold-out crowd at LPR.  In an effort to maintain a certain sense of mystique, the show was lit almost entirely by candlelight.  With the few stage lights that were on set as low as they could go – and red – the tabletop candles were the only navigational beacons around.  What sounds like hell for a server, turned out to be one of the best shows. 

Working at LPR you get accustomed to very different guests.  One of our early shows might be an intimate classical music concert where the up-town traversing travelers are in need of a stiff martini after their harrowing trip downtown to Bleecker St.  In all fairness to our ‘You-Only-Have-One-Type-of-Rose?!’ friends, anyone who has been on Bleecker at 4am (and sadly at 4pm on occasion), knows that some of the crowds wondering the street can be both ostensibly off-putting and dementedly intriguing.  The following concert could be a band classified as minimal, low-fi, alternative, rock, acoustic, electronic, and other classifications that are so hip you probably haven’t heard of them.  These throngs of slick-haired straphangers are people who have honestly forgotten that Manhattan lies between them and New Jersey.

The evening of the Rhye performance brought a crowd who expected a great show and a great atmosphere.  They were not disappointed.  Everyone in attendance was transported by the music and the lights – the booze helped as well – to a wonderfully serine place of melody and sound.  This is what LPR offers.  From the classical to classic rock; reggae to reggae tone, Broadway to bhangra, there is something for everyone here.  Even if you do have to go ALL THE WAY to Bleecker to get there.