A while back, I had an idea for a one-person, near-future play. In this future, babies are fitted with tiny cameras (somewhere not visible–don’t ask me for details) and an embedded storage device. From birth, they record and can access everything they see, for their entire lives. Their entire life experience is recorded in the first person. Later, they can download the data and view it on a TV (or display wall or 3-D display or whatever techno-gizmo is hip). This isn’t an original idea, but I thought it might make an engaging Fringe show.
The play would include one or more displays or screens, which would allow the peformer and the audience to review incidents in his life relevant to the plot. It’d be a meditation on memory, technology and how the two mix, blah, blah, blah. Suffice it say, I haven’t gotten around to writing it.
I was interested to read about HP Labs’ experiments with always-on cameras that essentially duplicate my premise. It’s an interesting article, but it seems to disregard the central questions–in a Heisenbergian way, how does knowing we’re recording everything change us? How does it affect our memory? Would we remember anything at all with our brains? How would you test children when they’ve essentially got everything ‘memorized’? Would it eliminate falsehood and deception from our society?
There was a concept like this in Orson Scott Card’s “Ender’s Game.” It’s a great book, and highly recommended reading, if you haven’t already.
The basic idea is that the government monitors children that it thinks may grow up to be talented leaders through the means of implanted monitors. The records aren’t normally accessible to the person being monitored, but they are kept and can be refereced later by the people doing the watching.