The late Gil Schwartz aka Stanley Bing was a CBS executive who wrote many best-selling books with titles like 100 Bullshit Jobs . . . and How to Get Them, Sun Tzu Was a Sissy, and Executricks, or How to Retire While You’re Still Working. Prior to this he wrote a couple of non-science fiction novels. He was also was a reader of science fiction.

That corporate experience and knowledge of science fiction give this novel a breezy, knowing air without stylistically stumbling the way many non-genre novelists do when wandering into science fiction.

And this book is pure science fiction, a black satire on one of humanity’s oldest obsessions: the quest for immortality.
And Bing is right up front in his dedication about who his targets are: “To Craig Venter, Larry Ellison, Sergey Brin and Larry Page, Mark Zuckerberg, Marc Andreessen, Elon Musk, and all the visionary titans exploring the possibility of eternal life for those who can afford it.”

Arthur Vogel is definitely one of those who can afford it. At 127, he’s the world’s richest man. His day is a tedious regimen of drugs and supplements and no normal food, walking about on his cyborg legs. His only fun time comes after printing out a penis, popping some pills, and having sex with his hot wife Sallie.

Arthur is the last boomer. He even went to Woodstock. He made a fortune in finance and retired at age 35 to pursue “dark studies” about the boundary between life and death. In the early 20th century, he made even more money after inventing a switch for quantum computers.
His obsession is conquering death and for that he has enlisted Bob, a research scientist. (As far as I can tell, Bob never gets a last name. I suspect his name is Bing’s knowing joke on the “As you know, Bob” cliché. But it’s Bob who does a lot of the explaining here.) Bob has an attractive assistant named Bronwyn who thinks Bob is a good guy with a “loose moral compass”.

Bob has created Gene, the fourth iteration of a project to create a human body for Arthur to download his consciousness to. 3-D printed to spec, Gene is supposed to have just enough function and consciousness to work independently but not enough to interfere with Arthur’s goal. Gene is an amiable sort of person, fitted with some knowledge (courtesy of Bob who used some of his own memories and knowledge), and not a lot of memories.

But, when the project nears completion and Gene is brought around for Arthur to examine, things start to go wrong. Especially after Sallie looks approvingly at Gene’s body and says she hopes they will become good friends. Gene begins to suspect what’s planned for him and bolts to reunite with a woman he dimly remembers loving, a schoolteacher named Livia.

But, when you have a cranial tracking device and are up against the security forces of a trillionaire, you aren’t going to get far, and Gene is reeled in.

The project proceeds. Arthur takes up residence in Gene’s skull.

And then we begin to learn of two conspiracies: Arthur’s plan to sell his immorality to his fellow trillionaires in exchange for control of the Cloud and a shadowy group of rebels led by Master Tim (modelled, I suspect, on Apple Chairman Tim Cook) who plan on stopping him and hitting the reset button on this civilization. Livia and Bronwyn are members of that group.

The book is quite funny in parts with robot cops, a security head whose principal asset and liability is his stupidity, banter between Bob and Gene, Gene really only being able to wrest control of his body from Arthur by being wasted on liquor all the time, and Sallie being appalled by the man she loves returning to the top of his form.

But this isn’t the usual adventure of rebels fighting a system by attacking its one Achilles Heel – another cliché Bing acknowledges. It’s a serious look at the technodreams of our current elites.

This is a world of uploaded minds, cranial implants, augmented reality, transhumanism, and life extension. But it’s not yet reached the Singularity the rebels fear.

In this future, only the coastal cities and Chicago are under full corporate control. The Real United States of America, full of citizens who have resisted brain implants, lives in the heartland, a market that Arthur wants to exploit, a group he wants to rule.

At a crucial meeting of the world’s CEOs, we learn all is not well. (And, significantly, this is mostly news only to the world’s richest man).
While medicine has advanced to the point where more people die of household accidents than anything else, society has become very risk-adverse. Indeed, the vehicles on Arthur’s corporate campus move no faster than 15 mph. There is overcrowding. Automation like self-driving vehicles have created a passive and workforce with plenty of time to consult “internal-electronics” and further divorce themselves from “real experience”. They can live a full day without an “analog experience”. Teledildonics have allowed people to divorce themselves from human contact even during sex. Humans 2.0 --“enhanced individuals – are more capable but explode and are “extremely fungible”, representing “yet another demotivator for people who are already prone to inertia, indolence, and virtual existence”. Extended life means multiple sexual partners and marriage.

“Extended intergenerational families from such multiple unions take up massive amounts of space and sometimes create creatures of . . . uncertain legitimacy”

(Is Bing hinting at massive dwellings with incest going on?)

The use of cranial implants is leading to brain centers of undirected thinking atrophying. The workforce has no competition to work against and no chance of promotion and no sense of ownership. Productivity is down and. Disorganization and malaise are up.

You can argue about the validity of some of these extrapolations, but it’s hard to argue with all or another passage which notes that, in a world of instant connectivity and knowledge embedded in the Cloud, even the professionals of this world don’t really know much anymore. They just know how to look things up.

At 290 pages, it’s a fast-paced, funny, but serious satire that ends on a note of ambiguity which may strike some as unsatisfying in its coda, but that’s a minor quibble. This novel deserves to be better known as an examination about the merits of extending life too far. ( )

Plainly speaking, Immortal Life is a disappointment. Meant to be a satirical cautionary tale, it falls victim to its attempts at tongue-in-cheek humor. Meant as a nod and a wink to savvy readers, its references to tech industry titans have all the feel of convenient name-dropping. The story is choppy, and the science is nonsensical. Rest assured, this is no Andy Weir blockbuster, although it is valiantly attempting to be just like it.

There is no doubt that mankind has always been obsessed with living longer and finding that fountain of youth. The premise that the über rich are actively seeking ways to live forever is not a stretch of the imagination. What will strike readers as odd is the fact that it is the tech titans who are funding this immortality research. Mr. Bing mentions almost all of them by first name to leave no doubts that he means those giants of industry who created Apple and Microsoft and Tesla and all the rest. These are supposedly the men funding projects that would prolong their lives – using everything from bio-engineering to artificial intelligence to DNA cloning.

The thing is that if Mr. Bing had done his research, he would know that these titans have actively warned against the use of artificial intelligence in any form. They have warned about the ethical issues with bio-engineering. Their concerns are for the future of humanity, and they are not alone in that regard. They sit right alongside the likes of Stephen Hawking when touting the idea that artificial intelligence and robotics will mean the end of mankind. Knowing this information, it makes the entire premise that these One Percenters would ever go so far as to use robotic arms, legs, and internal organs to extend their lives, let along clone another human being into which they could transfer their personalities, utterly preposterous.

Granted, no one reading Immortal Life could ever take it as science fact or even science potential. The science portions of the story are laughable. If anything these passages read more like wishful thinking rather than anything possible right now. The theories mentioned and the science used throughout the novel have no basis in reality. For a science fiction novel, it appears to be more fantasy than science-based.

All this brings me back to the idea that Immortal Life is supposed to be a satire, but one has to wonder what exactly it is trying mock. One can see the ridicule of our obsession with youth, looking young and staying fit as long as possible. However, it is difficult to take the novel seriously let alone use it as a magnifying glass to highlight faults within modern society. In attempting to scorn certain trends, the story goes too far into the incredulous making it ineffective at the very thing it was trying to do.