On Saturday, the world watched in horror as Christian Eriksen collapsed during Denmark’s Euro 2020 opener. Yet within minutes, he was resuscitated and, crucially, his life was saved by a small piece of British engineering. The implantable cardioverter-defibrillator (ICD) fitted in his chest after the incident is a marvel of modern medicine, a device that constantly monitors heart rhythm and delivers a shock when needed.
This technology, pioneered and manufactured in the UK, represents a convergence of miniaturisation, battery life, and algorithm reliability. The ICD is essentially a tiny computer, powered by a lithium battery that lasts years, sensing electrical activity via leads in the heart. When it detects ventricular fibrillation or tachycardia, it delivers a jolt of up to 30 joules, effectively resetting the heart.
The UK has led this field for decades, with companies like Abbott and Boston Scientific maintaining major R&D and production facilities in the country. The National Health Service has been instrumental in trialling and adopting these devices, creating a virtuous cycle of innovation and clinical practice. But there’s a darker side to this story.
As we laud the technology, we must confront the ethical and privacy implications of always-on implantable devices. The data they generate is a goldmine for researchers, but also a potential surveillance tool. Who owns this data?
Can it be hacked? The UK’s Medicines and Healthcare products Regulatory Agency has protocols, but the pace of tech evolution outstrips regulation. Eriksen’s survival is a testament to human ingenuity, but it also forces us to ask: are we ready for a world where our health is monitored and managed by machines, inside our bodies?
The user experience of society is changing, and we have to ensure that the benefits are not outweighed by the risks of a black mirror reality.
