In 1797 a London tea trader named James Tilly Matthews sat in Bedlam and swore a machine ran his brain. He called it the air loom. French radicals worked it, he said, and the prime minister was their puppet. Then, recently, Neuralink released a video. A man who can't speak because of ALS told his wife he loves her, through a chip in his brain and a speech synthesizer.
Those two moments frame Wireheads by Mike Jay, a historian of science and medicine. Steven Poole reviewed it in the Weekend Journal and calls it superb. The book's point is simple. Every new technology brings a dream of controlling the brain and a nightmare of someone else doing it. When X-rays appeared, an asylum patient blamed them for the wrong ideas in his head. Nikola Tesla, the inventor, proposed electrifying a schoolroom's walls so dunces would become star pupils. A Swedish trial claimed the same trick made pupils taller.
The EEG arrived in 1924. People reasoned that if a machine could read brainwaves, another could send them. The CIA chased that idea at midcentury. One scientist, John Lilly, promised push-button control and ended up dosing dolphins with LSD. In 1964 a Spanish researcher stopped a charging bull with a remote and an implant. He hoped the same device could tame men's aggression.
What's real, and what's a prayer wheel
Some of this grew into medicine. Deep-brain stimulation treats Parkinson's and epilepsy. A magnetic therapy called rTMS helps manage depression and pain, with no surgery. Then there's the shelf at the mall. Headbands that promise better sleep or deeper meditation are, the review says, of debatable effectiveness. Mr. Jay files them under "the twenty-first century's prayer wheels or shaman's drums." Elon Musk, meanwhile, promised a Neuralink device for people born blind within six to 12 months. The reviewer calls that timeline optimistic. A Tesla (TSLA) securities filing reported in Tuesday's Journal now lists Musk as Neuralink's CEO. We hold Tesla at weight in 13 books. Nothing added.
Our read
We file this under Health Costs and Consumer Protection, M11. The split in the book is the split in your wallet. Deep-brain stimulation and rTMS are treatments a doctor prescribes, and a health plan can cover. A headband is a purchase. The stories that sell it are two centuries old and they still work. Musk's line that future users will find normal conversation "like talking to a tree" is the same pitch Tesla made about star pupils. We'd watch Neuralink's progress with real interest and keep our money in our pocket until the data shows up.
Here's the check. Open your health plan's summary of benefits and look for rTMS or deep-brain stimulation if anyone in the house deals with depression, Parkinson's or epilepsy. That's a covered treatment with a doctor behind it. Then check whether a wellness gadget went on your HSA card. Most sleep and meditation headbands aren't a qualified medical expense without a doctor's note. A non-qualified HSA withdrawal is taxed, plus a 20% penalty before 65. That's paying extra for a prayer wheel. We'd rather carry the umbrella than pay for a rain dance.