No one would think to challenge a person’s right to their own kidney or demand a share of a titanium pin’s value in their leg during a divorce. We perceive medical interventions that restore us as an indisputable part of our identity.

But what if that pin is connected to the cloud, collecting data on your activity? What if an artificial eye doesn’t just restore sight, but allows you to see in the infrared spectrum thanks to a paid software update?

The moment technology stops merely “fixing” and starts “enhancing,” we quietly cross a boundary. A boundary beyond which the simple question “who does this belong to?” no longer has a simple answer. Here, two fundamental logics collide, and the future of our autonomy depends on the outcome of their battle.

The Logic of the Market: The Implant as a Product

On one side, there is the manufacturer—a company that has invested millions in research, development, and certification. From their perspective, an implant is a complex product. It has a cost, intellectual property (the software), a license agreement (EULA) that you accept, and a monetization model.

This logic is perfectly understandable and pragmatic. For innovation to continue, companies must protect their investments and control their products. They bear liability, issue security updates, and manage functionality. In this system, you are the user, the client. And your implant is a device provided for your use, even if it’s for life. The logic of the market demands clarity: there is a service provider and a consumer.

The Logic of the Body: The Implant as Part of the “Self”

 

On the other side, there is you. The person for whom the implant is not a set of microchips, but a restored or newly acquired ability. It is not just a “device”; it is your hearing, your sight, your hand. Your brain, thanks to neuroplasticity, has long since adapted and perceives the technology as a direct extension of your body.

This logic is phenomenological, based on lived experience. An attempt to remotely disable a function of your prosthesis feels not like a service termination, but like a physical injury. A demand to access data from your neuro-chip feels not like a statistical request, but an intrusion into your thoughts. In this system, you are not a user. You are a whole person, and the technology has become part of your identity.

The Breaking Point: When the Logics Conflict

As long as everything is working, these two logics can coexist. But they inevitably clash in real-life situations, creating a legal vacuum.

• In a family court, the “logic of the market” demands that an expensive prosthesis be valued as an asset to be divided. The “logic of the body” screams that this is equivalent to demanding they give up a kidney.
• In the event of bankruptcy, the “logic of the market” might demand the seizure of a “luxury” implant that is not medically essential. The “logic of the body” cannot comprehend how a person can be deprived of an ability that has already become part of their self-perception.

 

What Is to Be Done? We Need a New Legal Design

The problem is that we are trying to force a revolutionary new entity into century-old legal categories like “property” or “person.” Neither fits.

This doesn’t mean we must choose one logic and reject the other. It means we need to design a new legal framework that can reconcile them—a framework that acknowledges both the manufacturer’s property rights over their technology and the individual’s inalienable right to their own integrity and autonomy.

This could be the concept of “integrated personal technology,” with a special status that protects the user from arbitrary actions while defining clear rules of the game for the market.

The mission of Cyborg Alliance is to become the architect of this new system—to start the dialogue between lawyers, engineers, and users in order to design the rules before a crisis forces us to.