Talk of the 'Google implant' will alarm fundamentalist Christians worried about the Mark of the Beast

From The Telegraph: 

I can’t help wondering if Google CEO Eric Schmidt has gone completely nuts by publicly acknowledging the possibility of a “Google implant” under the skin – even though he adds that such a development lies on the other side of a “creepy line” that his company would “probably” not cross. He must know that, for years, millions of fundamentalist Christians have predicted that the Mark of the Beast will take the form of an implanted microchip. As the Book of Revelation says, in Chapter 13 verses 16-17:

And he causeth all, both small and great, rich and poor, free and bond, to receive a MARK in their right hand, or in their foreheads: And that no man might buy or sell, save he that had the MARK, or the name of the beast, or the number of his name.

A mark in their right hand that allows people to buy and sell? The match is so close that it’s almost as if the proponents of the “Google implant” – which is just an idea, neither endorsed nor planned by the company – were going out of their way to fulfil the prophecy of Revelation. Here’s some useful background from Joseph Laycock in Religion Dispatches:

The first person to suggest that the mark of the beast could be a microchip may have been Peter Lalonde in his One World Under Anti-Christ (1991). However, the association of microchip technology with the mark of the beast was thoroughly hammered into the American consciousness by Tim LaHaye and Jerry B. Jenkins’ bestselling Left Behind Series. The eighth installment of the series, The Mark (2000), describes how the Antichrist’s new world order will require everyone to be implanted with a microchip or be guillotined by a “loyalty enforcement facilitator.” The Mark sold over three million copies by 2004.

That same year, the FDA approved the VeriChip, an RFID chip that can be implanted under the skin into human beings, marking them with personal data that can be read through a scanner. The VeriChip Corporation, now part of the company PositiveID, has suggested that this technology could have useful applications such as storing a patient’s medical data and—in apparent confirmation of apocalyptic anxieties—commerce. A VIP club in Barcelona has allowed customers to use Verichips as debit cards. “Marked” beachgoers can leave their wallets at home and simply have their arm scanned to purchase a drink.

And here’s how Schmidt reacted when he was asked about the “Google implant” by The Atlantic:

The end of the interview turned to the future of technology. When Bennet asked about the possibility of a Google “implant,” Schmidt invoked what the company calls the “creepy line.”

“Google policy is to get right up to the creepy line and not cross it,” he said. Google implants, he added, probably crosses that line. [My emphasis.]

At the same time, Schmidt envisions a future where we embrace a larger role for machines and technology. “With your permission you give us more information about you, about your friends, and we can improve the quality of our searches,” he said. “We don’t need you to type at all. We know where you are. We know where you’ve been. We can more or less know what you’re thinking about.”

Hmm. Judging by that last paragraph, I’m not sure I trust Schmidt to locate anyone’s creepy line. And why is he so relaxed about people naming the subcutaneous implant after Google? I have just two words of warning for him: Procter and Gamble.

In the 1980s, an urban legend circulated among fundamentalist Christians that the logo of Procter & Gamble contained a “satanic symbol” indicating that the manufacturers of household products were giving some of their profits to “the church of Satan”. This lie gained such traction that Procter & Gamble had to employ PR staff and lawyers to correct it. But, when I was researching Pentecostal Christian beliefs in London a decade ago, I found that it was still going strong. One charming old lady told me that she never bought Dove cleansing bars because they were made by P & G and therefore she’d be helping Satan if she popped them in her supermarket trolley. (Dove isn’t made by P & G, incidentally, but conspiracy theorists aren’t great fact-checkers.)

Perhaps Schmidt is so dismissive of popular apocalyptic beliefs that he won’t worry if urban legends coalesce around a “Google implant”. But American politicians may not be so easy-going. Consider this Washington Post story about the Virginia House of Delegates:

The House … is scheduled to vote Wednesday on a bill that would protect Virginians from attempts by employers or insurance companies to implant microchips in their bodies against their will.

It might also save humanity from the antichrist, some supporters think.

Del. Mark L. Cole (R-Fredericksburg), the bill’s sponsor, said that privacy issues are the chief concern behind his attempt to criminalize the involuntary implantation of microchips. But he also said he shared concerns that the devices could someday be used as the “mark of the beast” described in the Book of Revelation.

Here’s the difficulty for Schmidt. The “Google implant” is (so far as we can tell) fictional; and, even if the company were foolhardy enough to invent it, most people wouldn’t regard the innovation as proof of the arrival of the Antichrist. But, by allowing the words “Google”, “implant” and “creepy” to appear in the same sentence, the company’s CEO will encourage subliminal associations that could land him with one hell of a PR problem.

The Virginia anti-implant bill passed by an overwhelming majority, by the way.