GRAY MATTER (20 page)

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Authors: Gary Braver

BOOK: GRAY MATTER
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But the spell suddenly broke when Malenko clinked down his cup. “Mrs. Whitman, when you first came in here last week, you asked about special medical procedures to enhance your son’s IQ. At that time, I had said that there were no accepted strategies to accomplish that.”
Rachel looked up.
“I had assumed you were interested in standard medical practices, which to my knowledge do not exist. I had not assumed that you were interested in alternate procedures, thus, I mentioned none.”
Rachel felt her heart jog. The room seemed to shift its coordinates. “Alternative procedures?”
“Yes. There’s an experimental treatment that’s been known to have significant effects in lab animals. It appears to work by stimulating areas in the cortex and hypothalamus that affect memory and cognitive performance.”
“Lab animals?”
“Yes, maze tests with mice and more sophisticated problem-solving tasks for higher animals including monkeys. And the results are rather remarkable.”
“Has it been tried on people?” Rachel asked.
“Yes, and with remarkable results, but I must caution you that this is a purely experimental procedure akin to what’s used in the treatment of certain cerebral dysfunctions, including Parkinson’s disease. I’m talking about measures that are drastic and unconventional. Is this something you’d be interested in?”
“You mean a brain operation?”
“Yes, an invasive procedure.”
Rachel wanted him to continue, but Martin cut him off. “And what are the results?”
“They’re not always predictable, but the neuronal pathways in those areas associated with intelligence show marked blood flow and heightened electrical activity, including abnormally developed areas.”
“Meaning what exactly?”
“Meaning enhanced performance in language and analytical skills.”
Sheila’s face flashed across Rachel’s mind—that look of burning import. Suddenly the line between hope and the emotional muck of grief, anger, and guilt had shifted.
“That’s incredible,” Martin said.
“But, once again, this is not orthodox methodology,” Malenko cautioned. “It’s an experimental alternative.”
“And it’s been done on people? Children?” Rachel asked.
“Yes.”
Rachel’s mind was spinning in disbelief. “Is it safe?”
“Like any operation, it has its risks, but it’s categorically safe.”
Malenko’s manner was purposely guarded. Rachel was about to ask him to elaborate when Martin cut her off again. “What exactly is the science—some kind of genetic therapy?”
“Before I continue, I must tell you that what we are discussing is strictly confidential. What we say in this room will not go beyond these walls. Do I make myself clear?” He looked from Martin to Rachel.
“Yeah, sure,” Martin said.
Rachel nodded, feeling a bit dazed at the new possibilities. It suddenly occurred to her that their previous discussion had been a test—and that they had passed.
“Good,” Malenko said. “The procedure involves the introduction of certain agents that stimulate neuronic connections and open new pathways.”
“You mean like stem cells?” Martin asked.
“Something like that. The target areas of the brain are infused with a cocktail of various substances including growth factors. Intelligence is a multifaceted phenomenon consisting of different potentials—mathematics, linguistic, logic, spatial, and so on—and each specialty has a field locus in the brain. Dylan’s musical talent has an associative field of activity in his cortex. However, there are underdeveloped areas where the field potential is low and where lateral support cannot be assumed by other specialized areas.”
He opened a desk drawer and removed a diagram of a human brain.
“I’m not saying it will work, but it might be possible to stimulate cell development in those language-deficient areas so that they’ll connect up to those specialty areas to make for more integrated brain dynamics.” He used a
pen to demonstrate on the scans. “Essentially, it might be possible to compensate for the developmental deficiencies
in utero.
”
“That’s incredible,” Martin said.
“You said
invasive.
You mean an operation?” Rachel asked. “Cutting open our son’s head?”
“Actually, it’s done by stereotaxic surgery—drilling tiny holes then implanting stimulants by use of needles.”
Rachel let out an involuntary groan, and Malenko picked up on it. “Sorry to say that this can’t be done intravenally. But stereotaxic procedures are performed all the time, and it is very precise, of course, and monitored in three-dimension by CAT scans.”
“And where do the stem cells come from?” Rachel asked.
“There are donor banks.”
“Who would be doing the procedure?” Rachel asked.
“We have a surgical team.”
“And your role is what?”
He smiled thinly. “I’ll be in charge.”
“So you’ve done these procedures before?” Martin asked.
“Yes.”
The guardedness in his manner was almost palpable. Rachel could sense that they were treading on territory that had vaguely been charted—some forbidden zone behind the chrome and green Italian marble veneer. “What about the risks?”
“Risks are inherent in any operation, but with this procedure they are very small. At worst, there would be only a minimal regeneration of neuronal networks, with modest improvement in performance. But that possibility is far exceeded by the benefits.”
“Such as?” Martin asked, his eyes wide with supplication. He was suddenly enthralled by the possibilities.
“Your son’s IQ will be higher.”
“It will?” Martin’s voice skipped an octave. He could not disguise his excitement. “How much higher?”
Malenko smiled. “How much would you like?”
“You mean we have a choice?”
Malenko chuckled. “Enhancement can’t be fine-tuned to an exact number, of course.” He then unlocked a drawer from a file cabinet behind him and
removed a folder from which he removed some charts. The first was a lopsided bell curve showing the IQ distribution of high school seniors and the colleges they attended. On the fat right end of the curve where the scores went from eighty-five to one hundred and five, the schools listed were community colleges and Southern state schools. But at the long thin tapered end were the A-list institutions—Stanford, Cal Tech, MIT, WPI, and the top Ivy Leagues.
“Dylan’s IQ is currently about eighty-two. Let’s say, for instance, that it was enhanced by fifteen points, he would just get by in the typical high school. Another fifteen points would mean he’d perform well in high school and just passably at a mid-level college. Another fifteen points would mean he’d do well at the better colleges. Another fifteen points—an IQ about one hundred forty—would mean he’d do a sterling job at the better colleges. Another fifteen points and he would have an incandescent mind capable of doing superior work at the very best institutions.”
“Incandescent mind.”
The phrase hummed in Rachel’s consciousness.
“Wow,” whispered Martin.
Malenko seemed bemused at their sudden display of interest. Or maybe it was the kind of sneaky pleasure one gets from sharing secrets.
The second chart showed a correlation of IQ scores with various occupations—physicians, mathematicians, scientists, accountants, lawyers, business executives, teachers, bus drivers, and so on.
“As you said, there was a time when people of high intelligence were scattered across a range of employment. But over the last two decades, that population has squeezed into a handful of high-powered professions. No longer do you find the brilliant shoemaker or ditchdigger. Instead, they’re running laboratories, law firms, the world’s most important corporations, and”—he gave a little smile—“egghead—recruitment companies. So the benefits can promise years of success for Dylan.
“But they go beyond professional. The statistical correlation of high intelligence with financial and intellectual achievements is an obvious gain. Not so obvious are the
intangible
benefits of high intelligence, such as maturity, superior adjustments to life, general health, and happiness—all of which I assume you desire for your Dylan.”
He raised another chart—an actuarial graph of life expectancy measured against IQ. “One of the ancillary benefits of high intelligence is lifestyle, including diet, personal health care, and basic survival. In other words, as you can see, smarter people are happier, healthier, and live longer lives.” He ran
his finger up the curve showing the higher survival rates for those at the upper end of the IQ scale.
While Rachel listened half in awe, it became clear that this was not just a glib explanation of some experimental neurophysiological procedure, but a sales pitch. That Malenko had had these charts prepared, and that he had been through this spiel with other parents who had sat in these same chairs, twisting with anxiety and hope that they could make life better for their children.
Malenko is selling IQs.
“I should add that individuals at the lower end of the spectrum are, statistically speaking, people with more serious psychological problems and emotional disorders. Nor should it surprise you that the majority of people on welfare and in prisons in the United States have an average IQ of eighty-seven.”
That comment jabbed Rachel like an ice pick. “Those are blind statistics,” she said. “And I resent the implication.”
“Of course, of course, they’re blind statistics,” Malenko said. “And in no way am I suggesting that Dylan would otherwise grow up to be a criminal or on welfare. I’m just telling you what studies have found.”
He slipped the charts back into the drawer and locked the cabinet. “So?” he said, waiting for a response.
“So, you’re saying that you can do this—that you can increase Dylan’s intelligence?” Martin asked.
Malenko smiled. “That’s what I’ve been telling you.”
“That’s incredible.” Martin’s face looked like a polished Macintosh.
“What about the side effects?” Rachel asked again.
“
Side
effects
might be the wrong term, madam,” Malenko began. “Intelligence is holistic. It’s intricately bound up with a person’s ego, his self projection, his personality, and character—and all his or her assorted talents. So, the person that Dylan will become would most likely not be the same person he would be were he not enhanced. Depending on the emotional complexity of a person, much of the difference would have to do with confidence and self-esteem.
“Studies have shown that intelligent people are more centered, more self-assured, more self-confident, and less timid than those who are intellectually challenged.” He turned to Martin. “You see it all the time in your profession—that special poise, presence, and strength not found in people possessed of lower intellectual skills.”
“But you’re talking about changing who Dylan will be,” Rachel said.
“I don’t want him to be intellectually enhanced if his personality changes …”
he
kissed my
boo-boo
“ … or he loses his love for singing or baseball.” Although he could not read music, he had a voice like wind chimes. It was a talent that distinguished him and brought him pleasure.
“Mrs. Whitman, forgive the analogy, but he would be like the child who had been stricken with polio. Without the vaccine, he’d grow up wearing leg braces or confined to a wheelchair. Now consider that same child who at age seven was given his legs back and all that went with that. Which child do you suppose would have the happier, longer, better life?”
He did not expect an answer, nor did they offer one. But Rachel was vexed by the man’s pronouncements.
“Before we go any further,” he said. “I must know if this is something you would consider for Dylan. Mrs. Whitman?”
Rachel felt confused and overwhelmed. “I don’t know where to begin.” It was as if Malenko were no longer a physician but some kind of self-proclaimed Fairy Godfather. “You’re talking about surgically manipulating my son’s native intelligence. That’s not something I can make a snap decision about. There are too many questions and unknowns.”
“Of course, nor am I asking for a snap decision. I’m simply asking if you are interested in pursuing the matter. If not, then we can go back to our original plan for an instructional program.”
“Well,
I’m
interested,” Martin announced. He looked at Rachel beckoningly. “I mean, isn’t this what we wanted?” He was almost giddy.
Rachel was not sure what they had wanted. “I think I need time for all of this to sink in.”
“Of course, but I should caution you that the time for best results for the procedure is when the child is between three and six years of age. Any older and enhancement diminishes in effectiveness. And Dylan is six years and two months.”
“You mean there’s a deadline?”

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