The author as a child with her father in 1981, before he was diagnosed with Alzheimer's.
Editor's Note: A team of researchers in Italy recently used artificial intelligence and machine learning to diagnose Alzheimer's disease on a brain scan an entire decade before symptoms show up in the patient. While some people argue that early detection is critical, others believe the knowledge would do more harm than good. LeapsMag invited contributors with opposite opinions to share their perspectives.
Alzheimer's doesn't run in my family. When my father was diagnosed at the age of 58, we looked at his familial history. Both his parents lived into their late 80's. All of their surviving siblings were similarly long-lived and none had had Alzheimer's or any related dementias. My dad had spent 20 years working for the United Nations in the 60's and 70's in Africa. He was convinced that the Alzheimer's had come from his time spent in dodgy mines where he was exposed without the proper protections to all kinds of chemical processes.
Maybe that was true. Maybe it wasn't. The theory that metals, particularly aluminum, is an environmental factor leading to Alzheimer's has been around for a while. It's mostly been debunked, but clearly something is causing this epidemic as the vast majority of the cases in the world today are age-related. But no one knows what the trigger is, nor are we close to knowing.
If my father had had the Alzheimer's gene, I would go get myself checked for it. If some new MRI were commercially available to scan my brain and let me know if I was developing Alzheimer's, I would also take that test. There are four reasons why.
First, studies have shown that lifestyle has a major impact on the disease. I already run three miles a day. I eat relatively healthily. But like anyone, I don't live strictly on boiled chicken and broccoli. And I definitely enjoy a glass of wine or two. If I knew I had a propensity for the disease, or was developing it, I would be more diligent. I would eat my broccoli and cut out my wine. Life would be less fun, but I'd get more life and that's what's important.
The last picture taken of the author with her father before his death, in 2015.
Secondly, I would also have time to create an end-of-life plan the way my father did not. He told me repeatedly early on in his diagnosis that he did not want to live when he no longer knew me, when he became a burden, when he couldn't feed or bathe himself. I did my best in his final years to help him die quicker: I know that was what he wanted. But, given U.S. laws, all that meant was taking him off his heart and stroke medications and letting him eat anything he wanted, no matter how unhealthy. Knowing what's to come, having seen him go through it, I might consider moving to Belgium, which has begun to allow assisted suicide of those living with Alzheimer's and dementia if they can clearly state their intentions early on in the disease when they still have clarity of mind.
Next, I could help. Right now, there are dozens of Alzheimer's and dementia studies in the works. They are short thousands of willing test subjects. One of the top barriers to learning what's triggering the disease, and finding a cure, is populating these studies. So, knowing would make me a stronger candidate and would potentially help others down the road.
Finally, it would change my priorities. My father died the longest death possible: he succumbed last year more than 15 years after his diagnosis. My mother died the quickest possible way: she had a stress-related brain aneurysm 10 years after my father's diagnosis. Caring for him was too much for her and aneurysms ran in her family; her mother died of one as well. I already get a scan once every five years to see if I'm developing a brain aneurysm. If I am, odds are only 66% that they can operate on it—some aneurysms develop much too deep in the brain to operate, like my mother's.
Would she have wanted to know? Even though the aneurysm in her case was inoperable? I'm not sure. But I imagine if she had known, she would've lived her final years differently. She might have taken that trip to Alaska that she debated but thought was too expensive. She might have gotten organized earlier to make out a will so I wasn't left with chaos in the wake of her death; we'd planned for my father's death, knowing he was ill, but not my mother's. And she might have finally gotten around to dictating her story to me, as she'd always promised me she would when she found the time.
Telling my father's story at the end of his life helped his care.
With my startup MemoryWell, I spend my life now collecting senior stories before they are lost, in part because telling my father's story at the end of his life helped his care. But it's also in part for the story I lost with my mother.
If I knew that my time was limited, I'd not worry so much about saving for retirement. I'd make progress on my bucket list: hike Machu Picchu, scuba dive the Maldives, or raft the Grand Canyon. I'd tell my loved ones as much as I can in my time remaining how much they mean to me. And I would spend more time writing my own story to pass it down—finally finishing the book I've been working on. Maybe it's the writer in me, or maybe it's that I don't have kids of my own yet to carry on a legacy, but I'd want my story to be known, to have others learn from my experiences. And that's the biggest gift knowing would give me.
Editor's Note: Consider the other side of the argument here.
Declining numbers of insects, coupled with climate change, can have devastating effects for people in more ways than one. But clever use of technologies like AI could keep them buzzing.
And because many insects serve as food for other species—bats, birds and freshwater fish—they’re an integral part of the ecosystem’s food chain. “If you like to eat good food, you should thank an insect,” says Scott Hoffman Black, an ecologist and executive director of the Xerces Society for Invertebrate Conservation in Portland, Oregon. “And if you like birds in your trees and fish in your streams, you should be concerned with insect conservation.”
Deforestation, urbanization, and agricultural spread have eaten away at large swaths of insect habitat. The increasingly poorly controlled use of insecticides, which harms unintended species, and the proliferation of invasive insect species that disrupt native ecosystems compound the problem.
“There is not a single reason why insects are in decline,” says Jessica L. Ware, associate curator in the Division of Invertebrate Zoology at the American Museum of Natural History in New York, and president of the Entomological Society of America. “There are over one million described insect species, occupying different niches and responding to environmental stressors in different ways.”
Jessica Ware, an entomologist at the American Museum of Natural History, is using DNA methods to monitor insects.
Credit:D.Finnin/AMNH
In addition to habitat loss fueling the decline in insect populations, the other “major drivers” Ware identified are invasive species, climate change, pollution, and fluctuating levels of nitrogen, which play a major role in the lifecycle of plants, some of which serve as insect habitants and others as their food. “The causes of world insect population declines are, unfortunately, very easy to link to human activities,” Lehmann says.
Climate change will undoubtedly make the problem worse. “As temperatures start to rise, it can essentially make it too hot for some insects to survive,” says Emily McDermott, an assistant professor in the Department of Entomology and Plant Pathology at the University of Arkansas. “Conversely in other areas, it could potentially also allow other insects to expand their ranges.”
Without Pollinators Humans Will Starve
We may not think much of our planet’s getting warmer by only one degree Celsius, but it can spell catastrophe for many insects, plants, and animals, because it’s often accompanied by less rainfall. “Changes in precipitation patterns will have cascading consequences across the tree of life,” says David Wagner, a professor of ecology and evolutionary biology at the University of Connecticut. Insects, in particular, are “very vulnerable” because “they’re small and susceptible to drying.”
For instance, droughts have put the monarch butterfly at risk of being unable to find nectar to “recharge its engine” as it migrates from Canada and New England to Mexico for winter, where it enters a hibernation state until it journeys back in the spring. “The monarch is an iconic and a much-loved insect,” whose migration “is imperiled by climate change,” Wagner says.
Warming and drying trends in the Western United States are perhaps having an even more severe impact on insects than in the eastern region. As a result, “we are seeing fewer individual butterflies per year,” says Matt Forister, a professor of insect ecology at the University of Nevada, Reno.
There are hundreds of butterfly species in the United States and thousands in the world. They are pollinators and can serve as good indicators of other species’ health. “Although butterflies are only one group among many important pollinators, in general we assume that what’s bad for butterflies is probably bad for other insects,” says Forister, whose research focuses on butterflies. Climate change and habitat destruction are wreaking havoc on butterflies as well as plants, leading to a further indirect effect on caterpillars and butterflies.
Different insect species have different levels of sensitivity to environmental changes. For example, one-half of the bumblebee species in the United States are showing declines, whereas the other half are not, says Christina Grozinger, a professor of entomology at the Pennsylvania State University. Some species of bumble bees are even increasing in their range, seemingly resilient to environmental changes. But other pollinators are dwindling to the point that farmers have to buy from the rearing facilities, which is the case for the California almond industry. “This is a massive cost to the farmer, which could be provided for free, in case the local habitats supported these pollinators,” Lehmann says.
For bees and other insects, climate change can harm the plants they depend on for survival or have a negative impact on the insects directly. Overly rainy and hot conditions may limit flowering in plants or reduce the ability of a pollinator to forage and feed, which then decreases their reproductive success, resulting in dwindling populations, Grozinger explains.
“Nutritional deprivation can also make pollinators more sensitive to viruses and parasites and therefore cause disease spread,” she says. “There are many ways that climate change can reduce our pollinator populations and make it more difficult to grow the many fruit, vegetable and nut crops that depend on pollinators.”
Disease-Causing Insects Can Bring More Outbreaks
While some much-needed insects are declining, certain disease-causing species may be spreading and proliferating, which is another reason for human concern. Many mosquito types spread malaria, Zika virus, West Nile virus, and a brain infection called equine encephalitis, along with other diseases as well as heartworms in dogs, says Michael Sabourin, president of the Vermont Entomological Society. An animal health specialist for the state, Sabourin conducts vector surveys that identify ticks and mosquitoes.
Scientists refer to disease-carrying insects as vector species and, while there’s a limited number of them, many of these infections can be deadly. Fleas were a well-known vector for the bubonic plague, while kissing bugs are a vector for Chagas disease, a potentially life-threatening parasitic illness in humans, dogs, and other mammals, Sabourin says.
As the planet heats up, some of the creepy crawlers are able to survive milder winters or move up north. Warmer temperatures and a shorter snow season have spawned an increasing abundance of ticks in Maine, including the blacklegged tick (Ixodes scapularis), known to transmit Lyme disease, says Sean Birkel, an assistant professor in the Climate Change Institute and Cooperative Extension at the University of Maine.
Coupled with more frequent and heavier precipitation, rising temperatures bring a longer warm season that can also lead to a longer period of mosquito activity. “While other factors may be at play, climate change affects important underlying conditions that can, in turn, facilitate the spread of vector-borne disease,” Birkel says.
For example, if mosquitoes are finding fewer of their preferred food sources, they may bite humans more. Both male and female mosquitoes feed on sugar as part of their normal behavior, but if they aren’t eating their fill, they may become more bloodthirsty. One recent paper found that sugar-deprived Anopheles gambiae females go for larger blood meals to stay in good health and lay eggs. “More blood meals equals more chances to pick up and transmit a pathogen,” McDermott says, He adds that climate change could reduce the number of available plants to feed on. And while most mosquitoes are “generalist sugar-feeders” meaning that they will likely find alternatives, losing their favorite plants can make them hungrier for blood
Similar to the effect of losing plants, mosquitoes may get turned onto people if they lose their favorite animal species. For example, some studies found that Culex pipiens mosquitoes that transmit the West Nile virus feed primarily on birds in summer. But that changes in the fall, at least in some places. Because there are fewer birds around, C. pipiens switch to mammals, including humans. And if some disease-carrying insect species proliferate or increase their ranges, that increases chances for human infection, says McDermott. “A larger concern is that climate change could increase vector population sizes, making it more likely that people or animals would be bitten by an infected insect.”
Science Can Help Bring Back the Buzz
To help friendly insects thrive and keep the foes in check, scientists need better ways of trapping, counting, and monitoring insects. It’s not an easy job, but artificial intelligence and molecular methods can help. Ware’s lab uses various environmental DNA methods to monitor freshwater habitats. Molecular technologies hold much promise. The so-called DNA barcodes, in which species are identified using a short string of their genes, can now be used to identify birds, bees, moths and other creatures, and should be used on a larger scale, says Wagner, the University of Connecticut professor. “One day, something akin to Star Trek’s tricorder will soon be on sale down at the local science store.”
Scientists are also deploying artificial intelligence, or AI, to identify insects in agricultural systems and north latitudes where there are fewer bugs, Wagner says. For instance, some automated traps already use the wingbeat frequencies of mosquitoes to distinguish the harmless ones from the disease-carriers. But new technology and software are needed to further expand detection based on vision, sound, and odors.
“Because of their ubiquity, enormity of numbers, and seemingly boundless diversity, we desperately need to develop molecular and AI technologies that will allow us to automate sampling and identification,” says Wagner. “That would accelerate our ability to track insect populations, alert us to the presence of new disease vectors, exotic pest introductions, and unexpected declines.”