The
broad goals of nanotechnology—the
ability to inexpensively arrange atoms in most of the ways permitted
by physical law—are now widely accepted, but we need more. It
is not enough to agree that heavier than air flight is possible, nor
is it sufficient to believe that some design based on rockets can
reach the moon, nor does the abstract realization that mass can be
converted to energy change the course of history. We need to move
to the next step: the Wright Brothers, the Apollo Program, the Manhattan
Project—we need to translate abstract agreement into a focused
and funded project.
This
raises the obvious question: focused on what?
Nanosystems gave
us a persuasive feasibility argument for assemblers,
but didn't give us a design for a specific assembler. For every fundamental
design problem, Nanosystems gave us several feasible solutions—but
never picked one specific solution. Indeed, one of the main thrusts
was that we could have confidence that assemblers were feasible precisely
because there were many solutions to every problem—it's difficult
to be absolutely certain that a specific solution will work, but when
there are many possible solutions available it's almost certain one
of them will work.
We
have seen continued work on specific aspects of assembler design but
we haven't seen a complete design. Such a design (and accompanying
analysis) is feasible today, but a complete design will require the
work of a team of people for some years. We need to explore the space
of possible designs, analyze at least some designs in full detail,
and then use those designs as a point of focus for further development.
We can start today, but have not.
The
major consequence of this failure is continued delay, much of which
will be caused by continued confusion about "what is an assembler." While
we know that all the fundamental problems can be solved, we don't
have a single design or embodiment that selects a specific solution
for each problem and integrates those specific solutions into a single
unified system. Perhaps more seriously, there is the fog and uncertainty
created by mental confusion and misunderstanding. People have a hard
time grasping complex arguments and abstract conclusions, and when
we are hearing new ideas for the first time it's very easy to get
confused. Flight to the moon was thought impossible because "there
is no air to push against" in the vacuum of space. Airplane wings
push against air, propellers push against air, helicopter blades push
against air—surely the proposed space rockets were meant to
push against air? But there is no air in space! So can our experience
with familiar things mislead us when we consider fundamentally new
ideas.
A
project with many people must have a clear, detailed, and comprehensive
description of both the goal and how to achieve it. We need at least
one design for an assembler with all the kinks worked out, all the
irritating little design issues settled, all the potential sticking
points resolved. Without this, any effort to build an assembler will
deteriorate into chaos and confusion as the people involved find themselves
working at cross purposes—possibly without even realizing it.
If we want to build a heavier-than-air flying machine, and one person
designs the blades for a helicopter and another works out the wings
of an airplane while a third says we should propel the device by throwing
sticks of dynamite out the rear and exploding them, the result will
be chaos.
Right
now, the detail that we can achieve in a system design is limited
by the fact that serious design efforts have so far been limited to
one or perhaps two people. We could greatly increase the detail of
the design by increasing the number of people (provided they are the
right people). Half a dozen to a dozen people, properly coordinated,
would be a great improvement over the present situation, and would
start to provide us with system designs that had a level of detail
that would give us greater collective clarity in understanding the
goal and a greater ability to determine the developmental pathways
for reaching it.
Besides
pursuing designs in greater depth and detail, we should also examine
designs that differ radically in their approach and assumptions—we
can explore the design space seeking designs that are (for example)
easier to build. Consider the Analytical Engine, designed by Babbage
in the 1830's. The single most important intellectual development
of the 20th century, Babbage's design was never built nor was there
any systematic exploration of possible alternatives.
Looking
back with the advantage of 20-20 hindsight, we can see what Babbage
and the rest of the world missed: relays. Relays were known in the
1830's, and were widely deployed in the 1840's for use in telegraphy.
Had Babbage and others explored the design space for "Analytical Engines," they
might have realized that a relay-based computer was relatively easy
to build and quite practical. But they didn't, and so missed an opportunity
of historic magnitude.
Let's
not miss another opportunity.