To Be A Machine: Adventures Among Cyborgs, Utopians, Hackers, and the Futurists Solving the Modest Problem of Death

Is transhumanism the new religion for the secular age? Mark O’Connell seems to think so, and his exploration of the movement is nothing short of brilliant. He takes us through the silicon-valley boardrooms and desert bunkers where the ultra-wealthy are plotting to kill death itself, treating the concept not as an inevitability but as a technical bug. I was particularly struck by the comparison between the Singularity and the Rapture. It’s a fascinating, well-researched look at what it means to be human in an era of rapidly advancing tech. Between the biohackers sticking LEDs under their skin and the cryogenics experts in Arizona, the book paints a picture of a movement that is as much about faith as it is about silicon. Truly a must-read for anyone curious about our future.

Picked this up because I was curious about the Singularity, but I stayed for the brilliant, often hilarious storytelling. O’Connell captures the zealotry of the transhumanist movement with a perfect balance of empathy and irony. The way he describes the quest for immortality as a way to 'reverse the Fall' is an insight that stayed with me long after I finished. It’s a book that manages to be deeply philosophical without ever feeling dry or academic. The 'Immortality Bus' road trip is a highlight, showcasing the absurdity of political campaigning for eternal life. It’s a fascinating read that serves as a mirror to our own contemporary anxieties about aging and obsolescence. Highly recommended for fans of narrative non-fiction who enjoy a bit of existential dread with their humor.

Mark O’Connell possesses a dry, Irish wit that makes even the most unsettling topics feel digestible and human. He frames his smartphone as a 'mnemonic prosthesis,' a small observation that perfectly sets the tone for his journey into the heart of transhumanism. I laughed out loud at the descriptions of the DARPA robotics challenge, yet felt a creeping dread during the chapters on Alcor and head-only cryogenics. It is a strange, breezy romp that manages to be both hilarious and terrifying. To be fair, he doesn't offer many answers, but he asks the right questions about our obsession with efficiency. The prose is beautiful, even if some of the people he interviews seem like characters from a bad science fiction novel. It’s an important introduction to a movement that could define the next century.

Ever wonder what happens when the fear of death meets an unlimited research budget and a massive ego? This book provides a vivid, often unsettling answer. Following the author as he meets figures like Aubrey de Grey and Zoltan Istvan is like watching a slow-motion car crash of human ambition and biological reality. I found the sections on Grindhouse Wetware and biohacking particularly fascinating, if a bit squeamish. O’Connell is a self-confessed skeptic, and his perspective as a father adds a touching layer of groundedness to the more 'out there' concepts. The book is well-researched and manages to make complex ideas accessible to a general audience. It’s a thoughtful meditation on our desire to transcend our own fragility. A very solid 4-star read for me.

After closing the final page, I’m left with a profound sense of unease regarding our technological trajectory. O’Connell does an excellent job of highlighting the 'uncanny valley' of our own future. The chapter on Terasem and the idea of uploading consciousness into a robotic vessel is particularly haunting. It’s a well-researched book that doesn't shy away from the darker, more narcissistic elements of the transhumanist dream. The author's voice is approachable and his observations are often incredibly sharp. I appreciated how he balanced the 'techno-optimism' of his subjects with his own grounded, perhaps slightly pessimistic, reality. It’s a terrifying look at what we might become if we lose our connection to our biological selves. Definitely a conversation starter for any book club.

Finally got around to this Wellcome Prize winner and found it to be a masterclass in narrative non-fiction. O’Connell’s journey into the heart of the transhumanist movement is both an intellectual provocation and a deeply personal quest. He manages to humanize these would-be cyborgs and immortals even while questioning their sanity. The book is structured beautifully, moving from the frozen heads at Alcor to the gritty workshops of Pittsburgh biohackers. It’s an intriguing journey, written in a pleasingly approachable style that avoids getting bogged down in jargon. My only complaint is that it felt a little short given the massive scope of the subject. Still, it’s a brilliant introduction to the movement and its many contradictions. A very strong recommendation from me.

To be fair, I went into this expecting a dry science book and came away with a philosophical meditation. The ending, where O’Connell reflects on his own health and the fragility of his son, really brought the whole project home for me. It’s not just about machines; it’s about our desperate, beautiful struggle against the inevitable. The descriptions of Ray Kurzweil’s predictions and the 'rapture of the nerds' are both funny and insightful. While some might find the author’s focus on his own journey a bit self-indulgent, I felt it provided a necessary counterpoint to the cold, data-driven world of the transhumanists. It’s a fascinating, well-written book that handles its heavy subject matter with a surprisingly light touch.

The individuals profiled in this book are undeniably eccentric, yet I couldn't shake the feeling of being a bit of a voyeur. O’Connell spends a lot of time describing how strange these 'singularitarians' are, which is entertaining, but it lacks a certain depth. I wanted more discussion on the moral implications of this technology and less on the author's own bewildered reactions to it. The writing is good, though I have to agree with other reviewers about the occasionally exhausting run-on sentences. It’s a decent journalistic trawl through a nerdy world, but it feels a bit surface-level. It’s worth a read if you’re new to the topic, but seasoned futurists won't find much new here. It sits somewhere between a travelogue and a philosophical essay without fully committing to either.

Look, the writing here is beautiful, but the author's relentless skepticism occasionally borders on the dismissive. He clearly views these people as 'very odd,' and while that makes for good comedy, I felt he missed the chance to engage with the serious science happening in longevity. There is a lot of talk about 'the human condition' and not enough about the actual data. That said, it is a very readable and entertaining book. I enjoyed the literary references to Yeats and Nietzsche, which added a layer of class to what could have been a tawdry exposé. It’s a bit of a mixed bag; great as a 'zany travelogue,' but perhaps a bit disappointing if you were looking for a robust defense or critique of the technology itself.

Frankly, I found this more of a travelogue through a high-tech circus than a serious investigation of science. While the author is a gifted writer, his focus on the most 'odd' and eccentric personalities made the whole movement feel like a collection of fringe cults. I was hoping for a more rigorous exploration of the actual scientific feasibility of life extension. Instead, we get a lot of philosophical vaporings and anecdotes about the Immortality Bus. O’Connell’s skepticism is so heavy-handed that it starts to feel dismissive of the genuine ethical questions at hand. If you want a deep dive into the actual tech, you might want to look elsewhere. This felt mostly like fluff and filler to me, focusing on the weirdness rather than the substance.